144 COI

"This damn book finally has some use," Lumian said, showing the contents of the Post-Apocalyptic Scripture to Franca and Anthony.

Franca pondered for a moment before saying, "Given the nature of the Post-Apocalyptic Scripture, even if this prophecy is false, as long as we believe in it and prepare accordingly, it will eventually come true.

"The question is, if it's a false prophecy, can it even affect a true god like the Primordial Demoness?"

"I don't know," Lumian replied, shaking the central head of his three. "Anyway, we're not relying solely on this for predictions."

"Then should we contact Ma'am Hermit now?" Franca suggested.

In this matter, splitting up wasn't an option. The critical medium for prophecy or divination was Lumian's Cheek face-the Sequence 1 Beyonder characteristic of the Demoness of Apocalypse already integrated into his body.

Lumian nodded at first, then gave a self-deprecating smile. "Not yet. The 'occasional' state is about to end."

Franca pursed her lips, stood up, and said, "Then let's head outside the protected zone.

"Anthony, you'll handle the matters of the Sick Church for now. You still have Ice Mirror Charms, right?"

"I do," Anthony replied steadily.

After Lumian and Franca left the villa, Anthony retrieved the mirror representing the Sick Church's pope from his Traveler's Bag. He reviewed the accumulated messages and replied to each one using the Ice Mirror Charm.

Meanwhile, Ludwig sat on the sofa, eating roasted sweet potatoes while casually watching Anthony work.

After a while, just as Anthony was about to put away the mirror, Ludwig suddenly asked, "Is human life always full of suffering?"

Anthony lifted his head, looked into Ludwig's brown eyes, and nodded. "Yes."

Ludwig continued, "If you had a chance to start over, would you still choose to be human?"

"Probably," Anthony said with a small smile. "After all, I have no experience being another species."

"But if human life is so full of suffering, why would anyone want to be human?" Ludwig asked, puzzled.

Anthony thought for a moment before answering.

"Most of humanity's suffering comes from the brevity of life and the frailty of our existence-from constantly thinking about these things. But if we stopped thinking, our existence would lose all meaning.

"Perhaps it's precisely because life is short and fragile that we always want to do something, to create something. We have no choice but to rely on and help others. We huddle together for warmth, dream together, and create fragments of beauty. And because of that, we suffer.

"A poet once said - I don't know who, but it wasn't Emperor Roselle. I wholeheartedly agree with what he said: 'If I have never felt pain in life, it means I have never truly loved my life'."

Ludwig's face was filled with confusion.

Anthony added calmly, "Pain comes from love and desire.

"Words like beauty, hope, and yearning are like flames - they make humans feel pain, yet they also make us like moths drawn to the flame, burning brightly for a moment before turning to ashes.

"Franca once told me that the fundamental tone of the universe is darkness. We short-lived humans exist to create moment after moment of light, generation after generation."

Ludwig, chewing on a roasted sweet potato, earnestly summarized, "I still don't understand why."

Anthony laughed.

"Honestly, neither do I.

"If someone claims to truly understand humanity and life, it means they don't understand it at all.

"Perhaps it's precisely because we don't understand that life is so intoxicating."

With that, he stood up and walked toward the edge of the living room.

Ludwig didn't ask where Anthony was headed. He remained on the sofa, quietly repeating two words to himself, "Beauty... pain..."

The young boy seemed to be pondering some philosophical question, muttering to himself, "These things aren't unique to humans..."

After finishing his roasted sweet potato, Ludwig shook his head and picked up an Intis general education textbook from the coffee table.

Flipping through it, he muttered, "Inefficient method of transmitting knowledge..."

Outside the villa, Anthony strolled aimlessly along the shadowed streets, basking in the bright sunlight.

For now, he had no main task.

He was responsible for two things:

First, managing the Sick Church's affairs when Franca was busy. He was effectively the pope, though he could tell Franca hadn't truly come to terms with Jenna's death. She still held onto the hope that Jenna might one day return, which made her reluctant to officially pass on the title of pope.

Second, assisting the official Beyonders in identifying corrupted humans or latent anomalies via monitoring the sea of collective subconscious. The symbols and powers of the Great Mother had broken through the barrier. Even though She wasn't currently focused on the protected zones, Her influence naturally caused sporadic mutations, especially among Beyonders of the Planter and Apothecary pathways.

As Anthony walked, he noticed a street musician performing in a small square. Many Trier citizens had gathered to listen, some even dancing joyfully.

Anthony gazed at the scene, his expression turning adrift.

He decided to treat himself better.

The time to enjoy life before the apocalypse was growing shorter.

He sat at an outdoor table at a café, ordered a strong cup of Intis coffee and a pork sausage, and let his thoughts drift while enjoying the music in the square. Occasionally, he'd cut a piece of sausage to eat or take a sip of coffee.

The bright sunlight carried the heat of summer.

Just as Anthony was about to leave, an elderly man in a worn blue military jacket and white trousers approached.

The old man glanced around and saw that Anthony's table was the only one with an empty seat.

Without hesitation, the man sat down and ordered a glass of Nepos liquor with tomato juice - a drink commonly referred to as "Harlot" in Trier's bars and dance halls.

The white-haired man looked at a barricade in the corner of the square and said to Anthony, as if they were old acquaintances, "Don't you think Trier has changed? It's not as lively as it used to be."

"What makes you say that?" Anthony, while already understanding his meaning, played along.

The old man tapped his cane on the ground and said, "In the old Trier, there wasn't a year without some ambitious fellow planning a riot, no year without chases over barricades, gunfights, and thrown projectiles.

"And now? The young people today have no vitality. They only dare to sneak around and pickpocket."

This has to do with the unique nature of the protected zones. An individual's outburst might implicate thousands, so every individual in the protected zones has their subconscious minds subtly influenced, providing them guidelines on what and what not to do... But this can only decrease the Great Mother's influence the frequency of mutations-but can't eliminate them entirely... Anthony answered inwardly.

"Did you participate in those street riots?" Anthony asked.

The old man snorted, "When I was in the military, I was responsible for suppressing those riots and demonstrations. Overnight, they'd build up barricades and resist with everything they had-Molotov cocktails, makeshift weapons.

"Later, I left the army, suffered injustice in Trier, and became a demonstrator myself…"

The man reminisced about his past, speaking at length.

Anthony didn't show the slightest impatience, treating it like reading a biography.

After the man finished and began sipping his Nepos liquor mixed with tomato juice, Anthony asked, "Why did you join the military in the first place?"

The old man laughed.

"For wealth, women, and becoming an officer, of course!

"I came from a poor background. Whether as a farmhand, shepherd, factory worker, or laborer, I couldn't make a living, let alone get rich. Joining the military at least gave me a chance-be it earning merits or looting corpses. At worst, I'd die early."

The man looked at Anthony, "You were a soldier too, weren't you? You have the air of one."

"Yes," Anthony admitted.

The old man grinned. "And why did you join?

"Surely it wasn't for wealth and women?"

Anthony shook his head and redirected his gaze to the musicians and onlookers. He didn't answer.

Draining his coffee before the man could ask further.

Anthony stood up.

Suddenly, a four-wheeled carriage stopped near the café.

The carriage door opened, and an elderly man in a black suit with a dark tie and a half-height silk top hat stepped out.

His neatly trimmed white sideburns framed a face with sharp features and icy blue eyes.

Anthony immediately recognized that this elderly man had come for him.

"Excuse me, are you Monsieur Anthony?" the man asked politely.

His icy blue eyes were surrounded by faint but visible blood vessels.

Anthony carefully replied, "I am. Who might you be, and what business do you have with me?"

The elderly man smiled and said, "You may call me Naboredisley."

Naboredisley? The suspected incarnation of one of the ancient gods-Devil Monarch? Anthony was taken aback.

He recalled Lumian mentioning that Naboredisley's true body resided on Hanth Island, protected by Earth Mother to prevent full corruption from the Mother Tree of Desire. However, with Earth Mother now dormant, it was unlikely She could provide the Devil Monarch's avatar any further assistance.

Lumian had speculated that Naboredisley might have been dragged into the Abyss and destroyed.

Yet here he was, alive and seemingly well, in the protected zone!

The icy-blue-eyed elder who self-proclaimed to be Naboredisley smiled and explained His purpose, "I wish to meet Monsieur Lumian Lee."

-x-X-x-

Inside the luxurious villa where Lumian and his companions resided.

Anthony openly observed Naboredisley, who was seated on the sofa diagonally across from him. He appeared exceptionally calm, neither anxious nor impatient, sipping His coffee gently.

This was unlike the Devil pathway Beyonders Anthony was familiar with. Naboredisley's emotions were stable, His demeanor relaxed, and His normalcy gave off an air of abnormality.

Gulp. Ludwig, seated next to Anthony, swallowed audibly.

He, too, was scrutinizing Naboredisley, dressed in formal attire with a neatly tied bow tie.

Naboredisley did not inquire about Lumian's return. Instead, He naturally engaged Anthony in casual conversation about the current state of the protected zones.

After some time, the figures of Lumian and Franca appeared at the edge of the living room.

Lumian instinctively glanced at Naboredisley, smiling without concealing his surprise.

'I thought you'd been dragged back into the Abyss.'

Naboredisley stood up and, unfazed, responded with a smile, 'My condition has actually improved.'

'Isn't Earth Mother already asleep?' Lumian asked, sitting on another sofa.

Franca sat close beside him, her expression tinged with curiosity.

The ice-blue-eyed demon Naboredisley sat back down, His tone calm as He explained,

'Before the descent of the crimson moon, another major event occurred, one you should remember—the consciousness of the Primordial God Almighty stirred, and His spirit became active.'

'What does that have to do with your improved condition?' Franca asked inquisitively.

Naboredisley smiled but gave no answer.

Lumian glanced at Franca and then shifted his gaze toward Anthony and Ludwig.

The others understood and tactfully left—Franca heading to the second-floor studio, Anthony to the kitchen, and Ludwig to the living room to handle matters of the Sick Church.

Only then did Naboredisley smile and speak to Lumian. 'At that time, I, too, experienced the revival of the malicious consciousness and frenzied spirit of the Primordial God Almighty within me. To a certain extent, it balanced the corruption of the Mother Tree of Desire, allowing me to regain a semblance of peace.

'Unfortunately, the revival of the Primordial God Almighty was short-lived, with His consciousness retreating to the Chaos Sea. He left only His malicious spirit, preventing a true balance. I remain unable to fully escape the control of the Mother Tree of Desire. However, my condition has relatively improved—I no longer rely on Lilith's aid. Maintaining even this state is difficult, though. Once the Mother Tree of Desire breaches or bypasses the astral world's barrier and descends into our world, the rope keeping me from falling further will snap immediately.'

'You experienced the revival of the malicious consciousness and frenzied spirit of the Primordial God Almighty?' Lumian echoed, already guessing why.

A faint smile played at the corner of the central head's mouth as he raised his right hand and flicked the forehead of the strange dark gold mask.

With a clang, Naboredisley smiled with some appreciation in His gaze.

'Yes. Others might not guess why, but you should find it obvious.'

'This is because the Primordial God Almighty once accommodated the sefirah corresponding to the Chained and Abyss pathways—Tenebrous World.'

'He even accommodated the 'Tenebrous World?' Lumian, though he had anticipated it, was still a little surprised.

The Abyss pathway's Tenebrous World and the Sun pathway's Chaos Sea were fundamentally incompatible. Could they really coexist?

Was the Primordial God Almighty already mad, unable to suppress His instinct to converge?

Did He first accommodate the City of Calamity?

In a reminiscent tone, Naboredisley continued, 'Before the First Epoch, in a more ancient age, there was a myth: the God Almighty of Heaven created a divine child. Several Angels, led by an Archangel, rebelled. They were defeated, cast into the Abyss, creating Hell, and turning them to devils.

'I've studied the honorific names within the Sick Church. I believe you've heard this myth.'

'I have,' Lumian replied calmly.

Naboredisley nodded slightly. 'According to what I know, this myth may never have actually occurred. Instead, it represents a tendency—a connection between Heaven and the Abyss. Thus, when instinct drives convergence, that deity might prioritize such associations.

'This is also consistent with mysticism. The phrase 'the degenerate nature of all living things' is undoubtedly familiar to you. The Abyss has two entrances—one in the Sunken Continent of the real world and another within the depths of every human heart, in their propensity to degenerate.'

'No wonder your condition improved after Earth Mother fell asleep,' Lumian said with a slight nod.

Then he asked, 'Are you also a remnant of a previous epoch?'

Franca had speculated about this before, noting how many of Farbauti's aliases resembled the names of great devils in ancient myths.

Naboredisley smiled and said, 'Suddenly, it was all gone—suddenly, only darkness.

'When I recovered fragments of thought and memory, I was already a great devil. Those fragments were soon drowned out by madness and bloodlust, only returning near the end of the First Epoch.

'The old age was utterly destroyed, leaving only us remnants.

'Haha, for me, that was actually a good thing. I lived for thousands of more years. I ruled the Abyss and the land, enjoying everything denied to me in the old age.'

Naboredisley laughed with wild abandon, unabashedly revealing His desires and malice—entirely different from His earlier calm demeanor.

Perhaps this was His true nature.

Lumian wasn't surprised. He waited for the Devil Monarch to finish laughing before asking, 'What do you want from me?'

Naboredisley returned to His calm state and spoke earnestly, 'I'd like to ask for your help. If successful, my sealed Abomination avatar will die, and you may claim its resulting Beyonder characteristic as your own.'

After the crimson moon's descent, most of the Southern Continent's inhabitants were also drawn into protected zones, including Abomination Farbauti hidden in the Dream Festival's grave.

The indulgence faction of the Rose School of Thought and the adherents of the Primordial Moon mostly remained outside the protected zones, especially those with the corresponding pathway's Beyonder characteristics. Any cultists forcibly brought into the zones were eventually purged.

'Quite generous. What's the matter?' Lumian smiled at Naboredisley.

Naboredisley took a sip of coffee before answering, 'I intend to accomplish something on the Western Continent before the Mother Goddess of Depravity accommodates the Brood Hive and the astral world's barrier completely shatters.

'Currently, only The Fool and you can help me.'

'Me? I can't help you bypass the Celestial Worthy's seal,' Lumian questioned. 'Even Mr. Fool can't do that right now. To protect the Western Continent, he's strengthened the seal. Sending you through would require waiting for an opportunity—when the seal can be temporarily undone.'

Naboredisley smiled and said, 'Thanks to Alista Tudor and Cheek's mad attempt, the secrets of the City of Calamity are now known. In your current state, you can perform a deep secret deed without relying on Their special corpse wax candles. That's equivalent to establishing contact with the Western Continent.

'What I need you to do is this: When you next perform a deep secret deed, projecting your spirit and consciousness into the City of Calamity, take my mental imprint with you. You're bound to engage in a deep secret deed again, given your intention to accommodate the City of Calamity.'

'Take your mental imprint… What's the point of that?' Lumian asked.

He didn't refute Naboredisley's last statement.

Naboredisley patiently explained, 'I need to establish a preliminary connection with the Tenebrous World.

'Normally, this would be impossible. But the Primordial God Almighty once accommodated the City of Calamity. The two have mutually corrupted each other. Through the Tenebrous World's corruption within the City of Calamity, I can establish an initial connection.

'This would benefit you as well. My mental imprint, fused with the Tenebrous World's corruption, would mitigate related risks when you accommodate the City of Calamity, reducing potential dangers to some extent.'

'Would this let you become an Above the Sequences?' Lumian asked thoughtfully.

Naboredisley shook His head. 'No, I lack the necessary Uniquenesses, and my current condition doesn't permit it.'

He calmly added, 'However, I would be able to help the Tenebrous World manifest greater power.'

Lumian nodded slightly, then smiled and asked Naboredisley, 'Do you think I'll agree?

'Allowing a great devil's mental imprint into one's own mind and spirit is extremely dangerous.'

A secret deed involved the union of consciousness and spirit with specific entities, unrelated to the physical body. Thus, in secret deed experiences, all items originated from the projection of one's spirit, not their actual counterparts. This meant Naboredisley could only participate in the secret deeds by placing His mental imprint within Lumian's soul, mind, and consciousness.

Naboredisley met Lumian's gaze and replied with a smile, 'I think you will.

'Because you and I are the same. In madness, we're most 'normal,' and in clarity, we're most insane.'

Lumian laughed, and his laughter lingered for a long while.

Finally, he restrained his smile and said to Naboredisley, 'Alright, I agree.

'I'll inform you before I next perform a deep secret deed.'

Naboredisley stood, satisfied, and extended His hand. 'Pleasure working with you.'

'Pleasure working with you,' Lumian casually shook His hand. ra n obes

Taking His silk top hat, Naboredisley placed it atop His head and asked with a smile, 'Aren't you worried about creating such a devil could harm human society?'

Lumian smiled and replied calmly, 'If we don't survive the apocalypse, there won't be any human society for you to harm. If we do survive and I'm about to perish, I'll drag you down with me.

'If neither of those scenarios happens, either I or Mr. Fool will deal with you in the end—by killing, sealing, imprisoning, or banishing you.'

Naboredisley wasn't surprised by this response.

He smiled and sighed. 'Thank you for your honesty.'

With His silk hat securely in place, He left the luxurious villa at a steady pace.

-x-X-x-

As Naboredisley departed, Franca descended from the second floor, immediately asking Lumian, "What did He want from you?"

"Self-preservation," Lumian replied succinctly.

Franca's thoughts raced as she speculated aloud, "You're not connected to either the Abyss or the Chained pathways. How could He use you to save Himself?"

"By leveraging my deep secret deed with the peak powers of the Calamity pathways," Lumian answered, the central head on his shoulders smiling. "Don't ask for details."

"I get it. I'm not an Angel yet," Franca quipped, self- mocking.

Looking at Lumian, she mumbled, "Honestly, do I really have to wait for the final showdown to find the opportunity to complete the ritual to advance as a Demoness of Catastrophe?

"No alternatives in the meantime?"

Lumian considered this seriously before answering. "The advancement ritual is to 'create a disaster that affects an entire continent as a participant and advance amidst it.' The word 'participant' means you don't need to be the instigator-contributing to a small part of the disaster is enough. 'Affecting an entire continent' is a vague description. Continents vary in size, population, and significance. What kind of continent would fulfill the requirements?

"My personal understanding is that this equates to 'a disaster with a wide-reaching impact, involving hundreds of cities or settlements, and causing significant damage.'

"From that perspective, there's an upcoming disaster that fits the criteria."

Franca's eyes lit up. "What disaster?"

She immediately followed up, "Is it related to your plans against the Primordial Demoness?"

Lumian nodded. "Yes. We're about to bring a disaster to the Demoness Sect. This will take place outside the protected zones. If I succeed, it will inevitably involve the fall of the Primordial Demoness.

"As you've seen, the fall of the Eternal Blazing Sun had global repercussions. Many witnessed it firsthand. Even now, there's no sun in the World of Ruins; the rebirth forces of the Great Mother maintain nature's cycle. Referring to that example, if the Primordial Demoness perishes, it's highly likely to trigger a disaster that affects the entire world, which would fulfill the ritual's requirements.

"After all, the protected zones have the power of two existences to block the disaster. The Western Continent is sealed off by the Celestial Worthy, and the living beings still active in the World of Ruins are either the Mother's followers or outcasts like cultists and high-ranking members of the Demoness Sect. It's fitting for them to suffer."

"Hmm, my fight against the Demoness of Black and other Saint-level witches qualifies me as a participant," Franca agreed, then self-deprecatingly added, "A few years ago, when I first became a Witch, I never imagined that my advancement ritual would involve the fall of the Primordial Demoness..."

Back when she'd just become a Witch - or even when she became Unaging - she wouldn't have dared to think this far.

Lumian continued, "Let's go visit Ma'am Hermit."

…

The deep blue sea stretched out as the crimson moon replaced the setting sun, bringing darkness in its wake.

The Future-flagship of the Queen of Stars, Cattleya - sailed silently across the waves, as if in slumber.

As Lumian and Franca's figures emerged on the deck, a sailor approached with a bright smile, saying, "The captain asked me to bring you to her quarters."

"She foresaw our arrival?" Franca asked in surprise, glancing at the dark gold mask on the head over Lumian's left shoulder.

Wasn't it said that true gods and most great existences couldn't foresee this head's actions?

The sailor, still smiling, responded to Franca's question.

"The captain foresaw your arrival."

Fine, that's on me... Franca muttered inwardly.

Only then did she notice something peculiar about the sailor: a massive, red-and-white mushroom grew on his head, large enough to serve as an umbrella. The mushroom's roots seemed to pierce into his scalp and skull, while two tentacle-like appendages dangled from the mushroom, resting on the sailor's shoulders.

Suddenly, a name flashed through Franca's mind: Li Keji!

No, in the outside world, he was respectfully known as the Great Druid Frank Lee!

"Is that the latest type of mushroom?" Lumian asked, pointing to the sailor's head as they followed him toward the cabins.

The sailor beamed. "Yes, its tendrils can extract moisture from the air and turn it into milk. It can even continuously fish to provide protein.

"It's in symbiosis with me now, supplementing my body as needed."

As he spoke, the mushroom's cap and stem extended their tendrils outward into the air.

At the same time, the sailor grabbed one of the tentacle-like appendages draped over his shoulder and stuffed it into his mouth, sucking enthusiastically.

Milk trickled from the corner of his mouth, only to be reabsorbed by the tendrils.

"See? This way, I'll never go thirsty. No matter where I am, I'll never go thirsty! Haha, I'll never go thirsty!" The sailor laughed spiritedly.

Damn, has he been corrupted by Frank Lee, or has he been mutated by the Great Mother? Franca suddenly began to understand why Bella, who cared for Jenna's brother, was so terrified of being sent back to the Future.

Following the sailor, they entered the cabin. As they passed the staircase to the lower levels, he suddenly lowered his voice and spoke in a secretive, fearful tone, "Never go down there."

Franca nodded quickly, taking his advice without question.

When they reached the captain's quarters, the sailor knocked, waited for permission, and then opened the door, gesturing for them to enter.

Lumian and Franca walked in side by side. Standing by the window, dressed in a black warlock's robe and wearing thick glasses, Ma'am Hermit Cattleya greeted them with a gentle smile and a nod, "Good evening, Mr. Chariot, Ms. Two of Cups."

"Good evening, Ma'am Hermit," Lumian and Franca replied politely.

Franca glanced at the now-closed door to the captain's quarters and hesitantly asked.

"Ma'am, shouldn't you address the mushroom experiments being conducted on crew members? That sailor wasn't a criminal or a prisoner of war-he was a legitimate sailor."

The Hermit Cattleya paused for a moment before explaining, "In reality, it isn't so. What you saw was an illusion.

"An illusion?" Franca asked in surprise.

"In the protected zone, certain wild, unrestrained ideas can influence those nearby, creating surface-level abnormalities. In reality, that sailor doesn't have a mushroom growing on his head," Ma'am Hermit explained before adding. "Even for criminals and prisoners of war, unless they're beyond redemption, I don't let Frank experiment on them. At most, they're required to observe his experiments periodically."

Well done! Franca wanted to applaud Ma'am Hermit.

Understanding the nature of the protected zones, she found it easy to grasp Ma'am Hermit's explanation.

With a smile, Lumian said, "Ma'am, I'd like you to use Cheek's face on my left shoulder to divine Her whereabouts."

"Alright." Ma'am Hermit didn't ask further, removing her heavy glasses.

She was already a Sequence 2 Sage.

In the early months after the protected zones were established, frequent disasters involving high-level powers occurred. Demigods were stretched thin trying to manage them. Most were resolved by Amon, while others were stopped by Archangels and Angels, or delayed until reinforcements arrived.

These conditions had given Cattleya the opportunity to complete her ritual.

She wasn't particularly happy about it-she would have preferred no such opportunity, for humanity to continue living normal lives outside the protected zones.

The Hermit Cattleya's gaze shifted to the head on Lumian's left shoulder, but she didn't dare linger on the face adorned with the dark gold mask.

The head on Lumian's left shoulder turned towards The Hermit Cattleya, radiating maternal radiance. Cheek's beautiful and exquisite face beamed with anticipation.

The Hermit Cattleya's deep-purple, nearly black eyes turned abyssal, unfocused.

Faint images flashed within the mercury-colored rivers appearing and vanishing.

She abruptly tilted her head back as blood trickled from the corners of her eyes. ra n o bes

In a distant, detached tone, she said, "I see you fighting Cheek in the primeval rainforest of the Southern Continent."

"Thank you," Lumian said earnestly.

He then said, "I'd also like you to contact Queen Mystic. I'd like her to perform a divination as well."

"Alright," The Hermit Cattleya agreed, wiping the blood from her eyes. However, she asked in confusion, "Why did you ask me to divine?"

Wouldn't it have sufficed to go directly to the Queen?

Lumian chuckled.

"For one, different people may see different visions during divination. By comparing them, we might glean additional information. Second, this helps you digest the Sage potion. If your divination ultimately leads to the fall of a Calamity-representing evil god, wouldn't that perfectly embody the essence of a Sage?"

Ma'am Hermit remained silent for a couple of seconds before replying, "I'll contact the Queen soon to arrange a time and place, then inform you."

"Alright, thank you." Lumian and Franca vanished from the captain's quarters.

After watching them leave, The Hermit Cattleya didn't immediately put her heavy glasses back on. Instead, she gazed out at the deck.

Gradually, the deck, the cabin, and the entire ship became illusory in her vision, fading rapidly. The surrounding deep-blue, near-black seawater also lost its color, revealing a murky quality.

Within the murkiness, tens of thousands of overlapping human figures formed a massive sphere. Among them were the sailor from earlier and Cattleya herself, all with their eyes closed.

Many similar human spheres floated densely in the depths of the murkiness.

-x-X-x-

The next day, in Trier's Avenue du Boulevard, within a garden apartment not far from the Grand Palace.

Lumian and Franca, under the guidance of The Hermit Cattleya, arrived at a third-floor terrace. There, they saw Queen Mystic Bernadette dressed in hunting attire, holding a watering can, tending to several potted plants placed around her.

"Long time no see," Queen Mystic said, setting down the watering can and turning to the visitors.

"Long time no see," Franca replied. In the dream city, she and the Queen had not only collaborated but also chatted a few times. With their shared connection related to transmigrators, Franca felt more respect than fear—perhaps even a sense of closeness.

"I thought you'd be at sea," she began chatting.

Queen Mystic Bernadette smiled faintly. "Before the apocalypse, I prefer to stay in Trier. Moreover, as a Sage and former princess of Intis, I feel it is my duty to protect the citizens here, prevent various disasters, and maintain stability and order. This environment is particularly conducive to digesting the Sage potion, especially in the first couple of months."

As she said this, Bernadette glanced at The Hermit Cattleya, seemingly imparting a lesson.

"Ah, that makes sense." Franca nodded in understanding. "So, are you almost done digesting your Sage potion?"

"Almost," Bernadette replied succinctly.

She turned to Lumian. "You want me to divine the whereabouts of the Primordial Demoness?"

"Yes, please help us," Lumian said sincerely.

Queen Mystic Bernadette's eyes grew deep, like the sea before a storm—boundless and unfocused.

Faint, blurry images flickered across her vision, as if mercury-like rivers emerged and vanished.

Two streaks of crimson tears trickled down Bernadette's cheeks as her detached, ethereal voice sounded.

"I see the Primordial Demoness smiling, an abyssal mirror world, and a crimson full moon."

Crimson full moon… The phrase sent a shiver down the spines of not only Lumian and Franca but also The Hermit Cattleya.

To Beyonders aware of the protected zones' truths, the "crimson full moon" was like a trauma etched deep into their consciousness. Its mere mention brought it vividly to mind.

This prophecy differs significantly from Ma'am Hermit's, even containing contradictions… Clearly, consulting multiple high-level individuals skilled in divination and prophecy would allow me to piece together more useful revelations. It's like the story Aurore once told about blind men piecing together the image of an elephant—each by touch alone can only describe a part, and the complete truth requires combining their perspectives. Lumian's central head nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

He began considering the connections between the three prophecies.

The Post-Apocalyptic Scripture claims I will encounter Cheek in the World of Ruins. That could be false, but treating it as true and preparing accordingly might make it true. The variable is whether it can influence a true god.

Ma'am Hermit's prophecy points to the primeval rainforest of the Southern Continent, aligning with the Post-Apocalyptic Scripture's basic premise.

Queen Mystic's prophecy doesn't clarify if it's in the protected zones or the World of Ruins. However, if a crimson full moon rises in the World of Ruins, things will become troublesome—gravely so. At best, it means the Mother Goddess of Depravity has turned Her gaze upon us…

Lumian shared the prior prophecies, hoping to see how the former Clairvoyants, now Sages Bernadette and Cattleya, would interpret them.

"Somewhere in the World of Ruins' mirror world—or perhaps within the special mirror world," Queen Mystic speculated.

The Hermit Cattleya added, "The features there reflect the primeval rainforest of the Southern Continent.

"The crimson full moon may also be a product of the mirror world's reflections. For now, its symbolism remains unclear."

Lumian nodded and said to Franca and Ma'am Hermit, "Mr. Fool has entrusted me with something to discuss with the Queen."

Though now an Angel, Cattleya didn't assert, "There's nothing I can't hear." Instead, she led Franca to a small lounge on the first floor to enjoy tea and snacks.

"What does Mr. Fool need?" Queen Mystic Bernadette withdrew her gaze from the terrace's exit and inquired of Lumian.

She had not foreseen this request but now carried some guesses.

Lumian smiled. "Mr. Fool wants me to relay a message to Genie."

Bernadette nodded slightly, extended her right hand, and traced numerous starlit words in the air. These words intertwined into strange symbols, opening a "secret door" to an unknown location.

The door swung open swiftly, and a howling gale emerged, coalescing into a figure—a man with his head wrapped in white cloth, his upper body human-shaped, and his lower body composed of flowing air currents.

"Magic Wishing Lamp," Bernadette addressed in her usual tone.

The man respectfully retrieved an object from within his wrapped layers—a gold, intricately patterned vessel resembling a small lamp.

"0-05—Magic Wishing Lamp."

Bernadette ran her fingers over the lamp's golden surface and called its name, "Genie."

The lamp's wick ignited with a flash, releasing a thick, golden radiance akin to viscous liquid.

The light hesitated, reluctant and resistant, before forming a hazy, distorted figure with a blue-white interior and a faint golden outer layer.

The resilience of a Great Old Dominator is truly amazing. Even after losing their sefirah, Uniqueness, and Beyonder characteristics, reduced to mere consciousness, spirit, and status, He has recovered enough within a year after suffering severe trauma to respond. Though feeble, He is far from permanently comatose or deeply asleep… Lumian thought wistfully.

Genie surveyed the room, ready to utter some perfunctory remarks before retreating back into the Magic Wishing Lamp, but Lumian interrupted, "If I were you, I'd hear what Mr. Fool has to say. It concerns your future—perhaps even your end."

Genie's grand, majestic voice replied, "My future is already determined unless He chooses to break His promises."

Lumian detected the undeniable frailty in Genie's voice and smiled.

"Mr. Fool will undoubtedly honor his promise, but that time hasn't arrived yet, isn't that so?

"He posed a scenario: what if he perishes before that time comes? In matters of fulfillment, this is considered force majeure. And His 'successor' might be someone you wouldn't want to see—someone for whom breaking promises and deceiving rules is as effortless as breathing."

Lumian paused briefly before continuing, "Let's consider another possibility. If the Great Old Ones breach the barrier before we can respond adequately, killing Mr. Fool, Grisha Adam, and other true gods, might one of Them target the Nation of Disorder?

"Although They can no longer accommodate Sefirah Castle or the Chaos Sea, proximity might allow them to accommodate the Nation of Disorder. At that time, what attitude would the successful one adopt toward a weakened you? If They freed you from the Magic Wishing Lamp, would you dare emerge? No, by then, the Magic Wishing Lamp might no longer be capable of protecting you."

"Eventually, They would pursue the Uncertain Mist, completing the Son of Chaos. Your spirit may indeed persist, but only to wail eternally within Their belly, enduring perpetual torment."

Genie remained silent.

Lumian smiled and continued, "You know Mr. Fool's credibility. As long as he lives and the world endures, he will fulfill his promise and return you to the cosmos."

Seeing Genie about to respond, Lumian added, "No need to argue with me or twist my ideas. I'm merely the messenger for Mr. Fool—not the decision-maker."

After several seconds of silence, Genie's majestic voice reverberated. "What does He wish to say?"

Lumian smiled. "Mr. Fool hopes you can offer some advice for the impending apocalypse.

"He knows you're currently weak and unable to grant wishes or accomplish much, but your status and insight remain."

Genie gazed at the head on Lumian's left shoulder for a while, then spoke grandly, "Three hints:

"First, the Circle of Inevitability will bring calamity but is also the universe's most powerful and genuine Angel of Redemption."

This seems to suggest utilizing the godhood and symbolism of the Circle of Inevitability? Lumian refrained from questioning further, knowing Genie wouldn't elaborate.

"Second," Genie's voice rumbled solemnly, "your uniqueness and the symbolism of the Lord of Mysteries."

Lumian watched Genie silently, awaiting further exposition.

"Third, at critical moments, temporarily enhance the Nation of Disorder," Genie concluded.

Hearing this, Queen Mystic Bernadette frowned ever so slightly.

Genie's voice carried a trace of amusement. "This advice indeed benefits me to some extent, but you may choose to ignore it.

"Make haste; my elder sister will accommodate the Brood Hive faster than you think."

With that, the faint golden figure retreated into the Magic Wishing Lamp.

In His weakened state, Genie had no desire to remain exposed for long.

Bernadette mulled over the message briefly before telling Lumian, "I understand Mr. Fool's intentions now."

Lumian nodded, smiling as he took his leave.

-x-X-x-

Lenburg's capital, Azshara.

In front of the side gate of the grand and magnificent white tower, Lumian was greeted by a demigod from the Church of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom—someone he had seen before.

After his experiences in the dream city, Lumian easily recognized her.

She was Edwina Edwards, formerly the Pirate Admiral, Vice Admiral Iceberg and now a high-ranking deacon of the Church of Knowledge.

Dressed more like a professional teacher than a pirate or clergy member, Edwina gestured invitingly without saying a word.

Lumian refrained from asking questions, silently following her through the door and into a dimly lit hallway lined with numerous gas wall lamps.

After walking in silence for a long stretch, Lumian suddenly asked, "Does knowing more—possessing greater knowledge—make one suffer more?"

Edwina replied with her usual calm expression, "I would rather suffer from knowledge than find happiness in ignorance."

Gazing at the seemingly endless corridor, Lumian changed the subject.

"If humanity were to acquire enough knowledge, what could it achieve without relying on Beyonder powers?"

Edwina glanced at Lumian and said, "Knowledge in mysticism is also knowledge."

After a brief pause, she continued, "If you exclude that, then perhaps one day in the future, humanity could find other ways to influence the rules and touch authority. But beyond that, it would be impossible—unless mystical elements were incorporated.

"My research focuses on enabling humanity to use Beyonder powers with less risk."

"That's nice…" Lumian remarked wistfully.

After another moment of silence, they stopped at the end of the corridor, standing before a pair of brass doors.

Lumian turned his head to study Edwina for a moment before asking thoughtfully, "Would you want to return to being Vice Admiral Iceberg?"

Without hesitation, Edwina shook her head. "I prefer my current life, where I can learn something new every day and make discoveries."

Lumian did not press further. Under Edwina's gaze, he pushed open the double doors.

Inside was a bright and clean library filled with numerous brass bookshelves.

For a moment, Lumian felt as though he had returned to his first visit to the City of Exiles, Morora.

He stepped inside, and the brass doors slowly closed behind him.

From behind a towering bookshelf emerged Heraberg, dressed in a plain white robe embroidered with brass threads and holding two books. His amber eyes remained warm and clear, showing no sign of cloudiness.

Seeing Heraberg did not surprise Lumian. He smiled and bowed slightly. "Your Grace, we meet again."

Heraberg gave a slight nod. "Your current state is very research-worthy, but time is running out."

He made no effort to conceal His regret nor was He worried about the emotional damage it would cause Lumian. He spoke plainly, as if discussing an ordinary breakfast.

"Indeed, time is running out," Lumian agreed.

Heraberg observed the head on Lumian's left shoulder for a moment before speaking calmly, "I had made a prophecy.

"You will encounter Cheek in the near future."

"I understand," Lumian replied with a smile.

He looked around the library and suddenly felt a pang of nostalgia. "Your Grace, did you ever foresee my current state?"

Heraberg looked at him and spoke with deliberate cadence, "If I were to say I foresaw your future entirely, that would be a lie. But if I claimed I had no foresight at all, that would also be untrue.

"I foresaw that you would gain something unique, but I didn't know what it would be. I am not omniscient or omnipotent. Among the contenders for 0-01, I favored you because of your excellent performance, ability to stay calm and study diligently, and borrowing books from the library again and again—unlike the others…"

As He spoke, Heraberg shook His head.

"I'm a lover of learning," Lumian said with a calm smile, laced with a hint of self-deprecation.

Heraberg said with relief, "If you truly grasp the allure of knowledge and understand the joy of learning, even a long life will not be plagued by emptiness or torment.

"Knowledge embraces everything. Knowledge is everything…"

His tone was patient, as though genuinely attempting to guide Lumian toward a fulfilling future.

Lumian listened quietly, not interrupting, though he knew it wasn't particularly important.

When Heraberg finished speaking, Lumian asked gravely, "Would you ever willingly give up your current life?"

"Child, our will may be free, but we are not alone in this world. Often, life is about choosing between the bad and the worse—there's no better option.

"In similar situations, some would choose to give up entirely. But I am greedy. I wish to keep living. The ocean of knowledge is boundless, and the pursuit of it is full of joy. I am not ready to die yet. This is the fundamental reason behind many of my decisions.

"Now, there are only a few options left before me. Since I still wish to live, I must choose the relatively less bad one.

"Wanting to live is not shameful."

Looking into Lumian's eyes, He concluded, "These are my thoughts and experiences. I hope they provide some value when you make your own choices in the future."

"Thank you," Lumian said sincerely.

Having obtained the prophecy and answers he needed, he prepared to leave. But then he recalled something. "Your Grace, where exactly is the City of Exiles, Morora?"

"It, along with the surrounding mountains, resides in my stomach," Heraberg admitted without hesitation.

Lumian was enlightened. "The Path of Exile leads to the astral world?"

Heraberg nodded. "Yes."

He then smiled faintly. "When you summoned a meteor to destroy Morora, it gave me quite a stomachache."

Lumian froze momentarily before letting out an awkward chuckle. "That might be the greatest prank I've ever pulled—if it even qualifies as a prank."

After leaving Azshara, Lumian returned to Trier.

"How did it go?" Franca asked with concern.

Lumian recounted the God of Knowledge and Wisdom Herabergen's prophecy before adding, "I have a general idea now. Time to make a plan."

Franca studied the head on Lumian's shoulder for a moment, rubbing her chin. "Why do I feel like you're in a better mood?"

As she spoke, she glanced around, seemingly looking for Anthony to confirm her observation. Unfortunately, Anthony had gone to report an anomaly in the sea of collective subconscious to the official Churches and offer assistance.

For the past year, Spectator-pathway demigods like Anthony had been monitoring, observing, and assisting without rest. Any slight oversight could lead to disaster, leaving the task of quelling anomalies and calamities to other high-ranking Beyonders. However, in emergencies, such distinctions would be disregarded.

As for unofficial Mid- to Low-Sequence Beyonders and ordinary humans, they remained unaware that the Southern and Northern Continents had been destroyed and that they were in protected zones. Continuing their normal lives—singing, dancing, and working—was the greatest help they could offer to the official organizations and true gods.

In the current situation, the anchors must remain stable. Even false happiness was preferable!

Smiling, Lumian replied, "I just listened to an elder share His life's wisdom."

"Sounds good," Franca said without probing further.

Eagerly, she said to Lumian, "Let's start planning how to bring catastrophe to the Demoness Sect!"

For nearly a year, Franca had waited patiently to exact vengeance for Jenna and Lumian.

She could barely hold herself back anymore. She was no gentleman; she wished for swift retribution.

Seeing Franca's enthusiasm, Lumian chuckled. "I need to report to Mr. Fool first."

…

Above the gray fog, within the majestic palace.

After Lumian's figure vanished from the The Chariot card's seat, Mr. Fool contemplated for a few seconds before summoning an impromptu meeting.

In an instant, beams of light surged upward, transforming into different figures seated in various positions.

They were the Major Arcana card holders—Madam Justice, Madam Magician, Mr. Star, and others—everyone except Lumian.

"The Chariot intends to bring catastrophe to the Demoness Sect. You are to assist him," Mr. Fool commanded.

"Yes, Mr. Fool," the Major Arcana card holders responded in unison, rising from their seats.

Mr. Fool nodded lightly, signaling them to sit back down. Then he addressed The Sun Derrick,

"I hope you will uphold your justice in this matter, fully digest your potion, and become an Angel as soon as possible."

After the fall of the Eternal Blazing Sun, under Mr. Fool's protection, Derrick had obtained the Lightseeker Beyonder characteristic.

Once The Sun responded, Mr. Fool turned to The Star Leonard.

"You and Pallez will both participate. Apply to the Church of Evernight for temporary use of a Sealed Artifact…

"During this operation, aim to acquire a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact or the Demoness of Catastrophe Beyonder characteristic. Then, exchange it with the Church of Evernight for the Servant of Concealment Beyonder characteristic.

"Bring fear to the high-ranking members of the Demoness Sect. Through this, you will fully digest your potion."

The Star Leonard discerned that the last two lines were not instructions or reminders but blessings from Mr. Fool.

Feeling a wave of emotion, Leonard stood and bowed. "Yes, Mr. Fool."

The Fool then turned to Madam Temperance. "You and Reinette will also participate. The indulgence faction may attempt to sabotage The Chariot's actions."

Temperance Madam Sharron raised a pre-written card. "Understood, Mr. Fool."

After issuing instructions to all the Major Arcana card holders, Mr. Fool concluded the impromptu gathering.

…

Cathedral of Serenity, Church of Evernight headquarters.

The Star Leonard met with the current Pope, Saint Dabomachie.

"Your Holiness, I wish to apply for temporary use of a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact." Leonard drew a star sigil on his chest, making four sequential points.

"Which one?" Dabomachie, an elderly man with white hair and beard and a serene countenance, asked gently.

The Star Leonard replied in a deep voice, "0-17."

-x-X-x-

Another day began, and Lumian departed from the fog-shrouded protected zone.

The World of Ruins had no sun and was perpetually cloaked in night. However, the temperature wasn't particularly cold. Illuminating the surroundings was crimson moonlight, evoking a spring-like atmosphere with a climate that alternated between warmth and chill.

In the sky, the full moon was nowhere to be seen, the stars were dim, and the darkness was tinged with crimson.

Lumian turned his body slightly, glancing at Franca, who stood at the edge of the grayish-white fog. He gave her a subtle nod.

Franca responded with a warm, caring smile, waved at Lumian, and then vanished from sight.

Lumian shifted his gaze to the right, to the face of Cheek on the head that rested on his left shoulder.

Cheek's face, simultaneously stunningly beautiful, innocently pure, and radiating maternal grace, flashed a sweet smile.

She showed no signs of discontent with what Lumian was about to do—at least not outwardly.

"You're looking forward to this too, aren't you?" Lumian asked, his lips curling into a smirk.

Cheek's face couldn't speak yet, nor did She make any movement, neither confirming nor denying his words.

Lumian paid Her no further attention, turning his head instead toward the other faces—Aurore and Jenna.

Their eyes remained tightly shut, their faces bearing faint traces of bloodstains that seemed impossible to clean away.

Lumian let out a slow breath, striding toward the edge of the ruins of Trier, in the direction of the green domain dominated by towering oaks.

He wandered aimlessly, allowing the Law of Beyonder Characteristics Convergence and the mystical connection between the main body and an avatar to work naturally.

This was the direction the previous prophecies had pointed toward.

The further he ventured beyond the ruins, the more deathly silent the surroundings became. Only from the green domain did occasional sounds drift over—cries of "wah, wah, wah" from infants and the fluttering of bird wings.

Suddenly, Lumian spotted a group of lively wild deer emerging from behind rows of abandoned buildings.

Their nimble steps carried them under the crimson moonlight. Every now and then, they paused to nibble at the green plants covering the houses and the fruits growing on them.

Thud!

One deer collapsed to the ground.

Its body began to decay rapidly, as if consumed by countless microscopic organisms. Within seconds, it had completely returned to the earth—including the pale white bones, leaving behind no traces.

Thud, thud! More deer fell to the ground.

Yet the remaining deer displayed neither panic nor fear. They continued leisurely eating, while simultaneously giving birth to blood-soaked fawns one after another.

By the time the herd moved out of Lumian's sight, only the newborn fawns remained, growing at an astonishing pace.

There's no way civilization can develop like this… Lumian suddenly thought.

He wasn't sure whether this was a deliberate act by the Mother Goddess of Depravity or simply the natural environmental influence of Her state. What came to his mind, however, was something Madam Magician had once mentioned: she had wandered to a distant planet in the depths of the cosmos, where the inhabitants worshiped the Mother Goddess of Depravity. Yet their rulers weren't even Angels but rather three divine offspring birthed from the union between the Mother Goddess of Depravity and the planet itself in ancient times. Despite their extreme reverence for motherhood and reproductive organs, they had managed to develop a unique civilization.

Perhaps like the World of Ruins, the Mother Goddess of Depravity's true domain, is like this—devoid of civilization but teeming with Mythical Creatures… On the other hand, planets worshiping Her elsewhere might still foster civilizations? Lumian pressed onward.

After walking a while longer, an expansive forest of colossal oaks unfolded before him.

At that moment, four figures emerged from the oak forest.

The four carried a heavy, unpainted coffin made of raw wood.

Three of them were golems formed from earth, while the lone human among them wore a brown robe adorned with the Sacred Emblem of Life. His face was covered in scruffy facial hair, and his expression was solemn, as though performing a sacred ritual.

He appeared to be a clergy member of the Church of Earth Mother who had "defected."

The Church of Earth Mother still existed, with Her Blessed maintaining a tenuous hold with the aid of other official Beyonder organizations to prevent the goddess from losing Her anchors entirely. If Earth Mother were to go mad or perish now, the astral barrier would immediately be shattered by the Outer Deities.

The Favored of Earth Mother had suffered significant losses. Many had mutated or lost control during the descent of the crimson moon, and subsequent blows had further diminished their numbers. Only in the past two months had they attained some measure of peace. Their numbers now were less than half of what they had once been, and even Matriarch Roland was now a puppet of the Mother Goddess of Depravity, wandering a certain part of the World of Ruins.

Carrying a coffin? Could this be a former Saint of the Church of Earth Mother, a Sequence 3 Pallbearer? Lumian wasn't surprised by this chance encounter with one of the Mother's children.

He scrutinized the individual, who he assumed was a Pallbearer, and mused, The title of Pallbearer in this Sequence should be symbolic, representing the act of returning life to the earth—an essential part of the Mother's pathway for constructing the cycle of reality, connecting concepts and powers related to death and return.

It's not meant to involve actually carrying a coffin—it's about the symbolic meaning…

As part of acting, this makes sense. But you've already mutated into a corrupted creature; what's the point of acting?

The coffin must hold something special. What's inside?

When it came to matters related to the Mother Goddess of Depravity, Lumian was more than willing to stop, observe, and study. He positioned himself directly in the Pallbearer's path.

Meanwhile, the head on Lumian's left shoulder swiveled, with Cheek's stunning face gazing at the target.

Sensing this, the Pallbearer turned to look at Lumian. His gaze immediately became sinister and ferocious.

Just as he was about to unleash his Beyonder abilities, his body suddenly underwent a transformation.

His skin cracked open, spilling clumps of brownish earth. The earth engulfed him, fusing with his body and sprouting various symbolic organs representing the Mother, some human, others not.

The Pallbearer quickly lost control and descended into madness.

This was the power of the Demoness of Apocalypse. If the Death pathway embodied death and eternal rest, the Darkness pathway silence and eternal darkness, the Giant pathway decay and the passage of time, and the Red Priest pathway conquest and the destruction wrought by war, then the Demoness pathway represented the arrival of the apocalypse and the return to chaos.

The apocalypse marked the ultimate eruption of all conflicts within a designated area, inevitably involving the entanglement of fate.

The apocalypse was also the end of destiny!

And Lumian bore the boon powers of Inevitability.

The Pallbearer had already been teetering on the edge of losing control due to his corruption. With the arrival of the apocalypse, this inner conflict naturally erupted under the influence of fate.

However, his transformation into a monster didn't prevent him from attacking Lumian. He threw aside the coffin and charged at Lumian with his earth golems.

The surrounding greenery, even several young oaks, instantly withered and turned yellow, drained of life.

After just two steps, the Pallbearer's body was suddenly coated in grayish-white.

In mere seconds, he froze in place, transformed into a stone statue.

His three earth golems met the same fate.

Without a sound, the ground beneath them split open, spewing forth molten lava that swallowed them completely.

The lava was followed by the collapse of the entire surrounding area. Earth, plants, abandoned buildings, and the melted statues all vanished into the dark void.

The localized "Apocalypse" that Lumian had targeted at a specific region had arrived in full.

Seeing deep brown, nearly black light gradually condensing in the void, Lumian stepped toward the raw wooden coffin, which he had deliberately spared from the effects of his influence.

With a single kick, he sent the coffin's lid flying off.

Inside was a mass of rotting flesh, resembling an unformed fetus or the corpse of a small animal.

It didn't seem to have a physical form. As soon as it was exposed to the crimson moonlight, it began to evaporate rapidly into wisps of black-brown gas.

Lumian filled the area with dense Fog of War, cutting off the crimson moonlight, but the rotting flesh continued to vaporize, accelerating as it did.

The face of Alista Tudor, positioned on Lumian's left shoulder, turned toward the coffin, His eyes pitch black and commanding, compelling submission.

The black-brown gas slowed its ascent but strangely fused with the surrounding environment, dissipating quickly.

Lumian hesitated for a moment but didn't remove the dark golden mask covering the central face on his left shoulder.

In the blink of an eye, the rotting flesh had completely evaporated, leaving only a few black-brown stains at the bottom of the coffin as proof of its existence.

Lumian stared at it for a few seconds before reporting the matter to Mr. Fool.

He didn't venture into the endless oak forest. Instead, under the crimson moonlight and the intermittent cries of infants, he skirted the edge of the ruins of Trier, heading in another direction.

Familiar streets and houses appeared before him in an unfamiliar manner.

This was the market district. This was Rue Anarchie.

Lumian buried his hands in his pockets, as though returning to his past.

He didn't expect to "encounter" Primordial Demoness Cheek directly but felt it likely he would cross paths with a high-ranking Demoness. For Demonesses to survive in the World of Ruins, they couldn't do so without the protection of the Primordial Demoness. This required them to gather in one place or a few limited locations. Encountering one would mean encountering a group.

I thought you'd come straight for me to fulfill your dream… Lumian turned his head slightly, addressing Cheek's face.

That face responded with a sweet smile but nothing more.

As he walked, Lumian suddenly stopped.

He realized it had been a long time since he had heard the cries of infants or the fluttering of birds' wings from the oak forest.

The entire ruins were unnaturally silent—deathly still.

-x-X-x-

Faced with such an anomaly, Lumian smiled.

He withdrew his right hand from his pocket and continued walking forward.

As he proceeded, the buildings on both sides, including the Auberge du Coq Doré, began to twist and writhe, growing upward into swaying, grotesque trees.

These "trees" pointed toward the sky, resembling the primeval rainforests of the Southern Continent.

Raising an eyebrow, Lumian stopped in his tracks.

"So proactive, are we?" he remarked with a smile, glancing toward Cheek's face on the head resting on his left shoulder.

At that moment, the crimson moonlight in the sky, the dim stars, and the dark night all began collapsing and spinning toward a single point, quickly merging into a chaotic vortex that encompassed all colors.

From within the vortex, a figure wearing a bone-white dress emerged, descending from the heavens. The figure grew larger and larger, like an asteroid traveling across the boundless cosmos, unscathed by atmospheric friction.

The enormous figure had cascading black hair, slightly thick and waterfall-like, sapphire-like eyes gleaming with brilliance, and features both exquisite and dignified. On first glance, She appeared breathtakingly beautiful; upon closer inspection, her purity and grace stood out. She was none other than the Primordial Demoness, Cheek.

She did not reveal her Mythical Creature form. Apart from Her immense size, Her beauty defied belief, and Her charm was so overwhelming that even abstract concepts seemed unable to resist Her allure. She appeared as a normal human woman.

As She descended, the "trees" of the "primeval rainforest" shed their hard exterior, bending in various directions.

At this moment, they were no longer trees but thick, slick, black hair with distinct black-and-white eyeballs embedded within.

The hair swayed, turning the scene into one of surreal abstraction.

As Primordial Demoness Cheek descended, She smiled affectionately at Lumian and said, "I knew you'd come to find me."

…

Hidden in the darkness and trailing Lumian from nearly ten kilometers away, Franca relied on more than just subtle traces he had left behind, a Mirror Substitution he had entrusted to her, and the unique connection among their team members. She also relied on the mystical link they had established through their roles as Malady God and Malady God's Companion.

Franca had initially decided to include the title "Malady God's Companion" in her honorific name, hoping to anchor Lumian, who often succumbed to madness, with a "corrupted" connection. This would enable him to instinctively recognize that, in the mystical and Beyonder sense, they were companions—partners who supported one another. Combined with their existing emotional bond, this might prevent him from attacking her during moments of insanity and allow him to "heed" her suggestions.

After tracking Lumian for some time, Franca suddenly noticed that the sky had turned chaotic, the previous illusory ocean now engulfing it.

A gentle, soft voice whispered in her ear.

"You dare call yourself His mistress?

"I am His true companion."

As the female voice echoed, Franca's body stiffened instantly, grayish-white spreading rapidly across her skin and deep into her soul.

If not for her status as a demigod Demoness with some resistance to Petrification, she would have already turned into a statue upon hearing the voice!

Have I been drawn into the depths of the mirror world, into that special mirror world?

Is the Primordial Demoness targeting me first? Is it because of Her pathological possessiveness, and the fact that I'm currently Lumian's companion?

F*ck, I'm the one being cheated on here! I'm the real victim!

In that instant, countless thoughts raced through Franca's mind, yet she was powerless to resist.

That was a true deity, the Sequence 0 Primordial Demoness!

The next second, the petrification abruptly ceased.

Franca seized the opportunity, swiftly activating her Mirror Substitution.

With a crackling sound, she escaped her current position, gray-white stone shards scattering, and reappeared in another corner of the ruins now transformed into a primeval rainforest.

Deep within the rainforest, Lumian withdrew his right hand from the face on his left shoulder, holding the dark golden mask in his grasp.

The vortex-like face and the scorched flag partially embedded in chaos revealed themselves in the center of the head on his left shoulder.

The seal was undone!

Lumian's body swelled into a towering iron giant tens of meters tall, enveloped in ethereal, shapeless purple flames tinged with deep crimson.

At the center of his brow, a blood-colored banner emblem now glistened vividly, as though freshly dyed.

The moment the chaotic vortex-like face and the Salinger's Blood Banner manifested within the depths of the mirror world, the descending figure of Primordial Demoness Cheek froze for one second.

As a result, the petrification afflicting Franca ceased, sparing her from the fate of a Sequence 3 Saint dying abruptly in the chaos of a divine conflict.

On the face of Cheek on Lumian's left shoulder, her gem-like blue eyes layered with illusory darkness. Leveraging their mystical connection as companions both on the Beyonder level and within their Hunter team, Franca's figure was drawn into the projection.

Franca was immediately transported out of the depths of the mirror world.

In the next moment, she glimpsed an illusory and boundless web-like tunnel of mirrors.

Each passage reflected the ruins of Trier, where Demoness of Black Clarice, Saintess of White Katarina, and other colored Demonesses of Unaging appeared in various corridors.

…

Outside the mirror world, at the edge of the ruins of Trier.

A bent, spherical shadow suddenly emerged from the void, like a dolphin leaping out of the sea.

The shadow quickly unfurled, and The Magician Fors, dressed in a black robe adorned with silver stars, along with Justice Audrey and other members of the Tarot Club, instantly exited their concealed states.

Objects not reflected in the mirrors could not be forcibly drawn into the mirror world. Furthermore, the one who had drawn Lumian and Franca into the mirror world did not want subsequent events to be disrupted.

Silver stars on the surface of The Magician's black robe lit up, creating a dreamy starry sky.

In the starry expanse, the stars shifted, forming a brilliant "key."

The key pointed toward a specific location within the mirror world, forcibly opening a gateway.

The Sun Derrick was immediately sent inside. Dressed in a simple white robe, his entire being radiated pure, brilliant, and holy golden light, like a sun descending upon the dark region where Franca was besieged by the Demoness of Black and other Saints, illuminating the darkness.

Beside him, howling gales followed closely.

Additionally, clouds gathered in midair, weaving into a massive sword, which descended to stand before Franca.

Justice Audrey did not enter the depths of the mirror world. Instead, she gazed toward another side of the ruins of Trier.

She transformed into a massive grayish-white dragon, revealing her Mythical Creature form.

On the far side of the ruins, a figure quickly materialized—mature, stunning, and clad in an aged gray robe.

Demoness of Gray, Judith!

Accompanying Judith, a woman in a yellow frilled dress with a playful bonnet and a sly smile stepped through the shattered glass of a ruined building.

Demoness of Yellow, Tissavica.

As Madam Justice revealed her mind dragon form with grayish-white scales, another version of herself wove itself into existence behind her, dreamlike and illusory.

This newly woven Audrey, clad in a white dress, lowered her head and began reciting an honorific name in ancient Hermes, "The shadow wandering through fate, the past God of Deceit, the destined messiah…"

…

Just two or three kilometers from the passage forcibly opened by Madam Magician.

Dressed in a white shirt, black vest, and red gloves, with slightly disheveled hair, The Star Leonard appeared as though the process of erasing a pencil sketch in reverse was being played out rapidly.

He had prayed to the Evernight Goddess in advance, entering a state of concealment to avoid being detected by the Primordial Demoness!

While concealed, he quietly followed Lumian without probing or informing him, avoiding the mirrors' reflections and the pull into the mirror world.

As the anomalies began, Leonard immediately recited the honorific name of the Evernight Goddess, shedding his concealed state.

At the edges of his eye sockets, transparent and semi-transparent segmented worms crawled out, keeping vigilant watch over their surroundings.

They had to complete all preparations before the indulgence faction of the Rose School of Thought or the Blessed of the Great Mother noticed and intervened!

As for Angels like Dabomachie and Arianna from the authorities, They had not joined the operation. Too many Angels in the World of Ruins at the same time would weaken the defenses of the protected zones, risking serious consequences. They could not assume that the Great Mother, focused on accommodating the Brood Hive, had no energy left to retaliate.

Leonard took out a wooden door from his Traveler's Bag.

The door had no frame, standing alone on the ruins' ground.

Its surface bore patterns of stars, each shimmering with brilliance.

This was a tool The Magician had crafted in advance using her Worm of Star and other materials. It served no other purpose but to fix an entrance and exit to a particular place.

In other words, opening this door would reveal, not the surrounding environment, but another location: the chamber sealing 0-17!

0-17 was alive and thus could not be stored in the Traveler's Bag. Moreover, before activation, it had to remain sealed alongside two other Sealed Artifacts to ensure its containment. The Evernight Goddess, relying on the Uniquenesses of the Death and Giant pathways, could only hold the barrier for a limited time when descending into reality. Thus, 0-17 could not be left to roam freely from the start; it had to be deployed at the most critical moment.

Under such circumstances, creating a "door" to the sealed chamber for immediate use was the best solution!

Without hesitation, The Star Leonard grasped the door handle and opened the wooden door standing on the ruins.

Behind the door lay darkness, but there were sounds of movement, as if someone was lifting a seal.

In mere seconds, a figure appeared in the doorway.

She had long black hair, wore a hooded, classical robe, and appeared exquisitely beautiful, with eyes dark and devoid of spirit.

0-17, the Angel of Concealment, the vessel for the Evernight Goddess's divine descent!

-x-X-x-

As 0-17 stepped out of the solitary door standing on the ruins, its figure was abruptly erased and entered directly into the special mirror world.

Meanwhile, the Great Old Dominators who constantly monitored changes in the astral barrier began to react.

Stars of various colors—scarlet, gold, brown, blue, and orange—lit up simultaneously, banishing the darkness and crimson in the sky. Their presence infused it with other hues and emitted creaking sounds.

Soon after, the crimson moonlight that seemed to shine from an unknown source brightened and grew viscous, as if filled with blood.

From within Leonard's body, segmented Worms of Time crawled out one after another. These worms assembled in front of him, forming the image of an elderly man with neatly combed white hair, deep brown eyes, a sombre demeanor, and a face largely free of wrinkles.

The man, clad in an asymmetrical black robe, was none other than the Angel of Time Pallez Zoroast from the Church of the Fool.

The moment Pallez appeared, He immediately addressed Leonard, "Go support the other Major Arcana card holders in the mirror world. Leave this to me."

Without hesitation, The Star Leonard nodded and slightly parted his lips.

An intangible spirit extended from one of his teeth, growing enormous and enveloping him entirely. It carried him into the mirror world.

The next second, as if the void itself had been torn open, two figures emerged from the spirit world.

At first glance, these figures resembled grotesque trees covered in a viscous black fluid. Upon closer inspection, they were massive, distorted human forms with twisted and terrifying arms sprouting from their bodies. These arms bore sinister features—bulging veins with crimson eyeballs, embedded skulls, tongues lined with sharp teeth, and other unimaginable horrors. The figures exuded an overwhelming aura of madness and malevolence. They were none other than the Rose School of Thought's indulgence faction's two Abominations: Suah and Tirié.

Compared to when They previously aided in the growth of the Tree of Shadow beneath Trier, They had undergone noticeable changes.

Suah's belly was grotesquely swollen as if He were pregnant. However, the fetus remained still, seemingly cursed and already a stillborn.

Tirié's body, coated in tar-like fluid, was covered with dark, tumor-like growths resembling mammary glands. These tumors continuously split open and closed, secreting black milk.

When the Great Mother descended to the ground, even under the protection of the Mother Tree of Desire through the astral barrier, Suah and Tirié could not entirely escape corruption and became pregnant several times.

Yet, for beings like Suah and Tirié, madness was intrinsic. As long as the children weren't born, a little extra corruption didn't matter much—it merely caused Their faction members and worshipers to die in more grotesque ways or mutate into monsters more frequently.

As an Archangel of the Error pathway and a noble from the Fourth Epoch who had lived for over two millennia, Pallez Zoroast had seen much. Even so, He couldn't suppress a frown at the sight, and His abdomen seemed to ache in phantom pain.

Beside Him, the Angel of the Holy Spirit Reinette of the Church of the Fool stepped out of the spirit world. She had just placed four blonde, red-eyed heads back onto Her neck.

The leader of the Rose School of Thought's temperance faction transformed into a massive doll the size of a castle. Her blood-red eyes shone beneath a black Gothic dress entwined with sinister vines and countless mysterious symbols.

She revealed Her Mythical Creature form.

On Pallez Zoroast's other side, atop the ruins of a building covered in green plants, The Hermit Cattleya, wearing a purple robe and no longer donning her heavy glasses, returned from a non-existent state to reality.

She had initially intended to invite Queen Mystic Bernadette to participate in this operation to increase their chances of success. However, given the limited number of Angels remaining in the protected zone of Trier, the reduction in their forces would have been unacceptable.

…

When The Star Leonard arrived at the depths of the mirror world, where The Sun Derrick, Two of Cups Franca, and others were battling the Demonesses of Unaging, the area was already in shambles, as though it had suffered a partial collapse and destruction.

Demoness of Black Clarice wore a crystalline queen's crown on her head. Beneath its translucent surface were miniature visions of hurricanes, volcanic eruptions, falling meteors, and other disasters, resembling a complex, mystical weather bottle. The crown's pinnacle was stained crimson, radiating the light of the crimson moon.

This crown, named "Calamity of Crimson," was a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact originating from the remains of the Demoness of Blue.

The holy and dignified Demoness of White Katarina had already raised her left hand. A glass ring encircled her middle finger, extending a sharp crystalline spike.

This was "Love's Dread," a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact belonging to the Demoness Sect, corresponding to a Demoness of Catastrophe.

Wearing a cyan hunting outfit, Yalenna, with thick, long eyebrows, had an unusual black rooster perched on her shoulder. Though it seemed carved from stone, it appeared alive.

Its most distinctive feature was its three heads—a crestless one, a brightly crested one, and one with a dark red crest—and a slightly parted shared beak that revealed sharp teeth.

This was "The Setting Sun Rooster," another Grade 0 Sealed Artifact held by the Demoness Sect.

When the crimson moon descended, the Demoness Sect's headquarters suffered significant losses, retaining only five Grade 0 Sealed Artifacts. After recovering the Demoness of Blue's Beyonder characteristic, they now had six.

Currently, these artifacts were wielded by the Demonesses of Black, White, Cyan, Gold, Crimson, and Orange, among whom two had nearly killed Franca moments earlier.

Only through her status as a Demoness of Unaging, her numerous Mirror Substitutions, and having merged with her mirror self through reconciliation, did Franca survive the first wave of attacks and await reinforcements.

Silver, Green, and Brown were Demonesses who had advanced after the crimson moon descended. They replaced the titles of the completely deceased and lacked the qualifications to wield a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact. They could only use Grade 1 Sealed Artifacts that synergized with them.

The colored Demonesses, who had already digested the Unaging potion, couldn't use the Calamity of Crimson and Love's Dread to advance due to their inability to complete the ritual. They could only use them as Sealed Artifacts.

Facing such overwhelming forces, The Star Leonard drew a black staff embedded with gemstones from his Traveler's Bag.

0-62, Staff of the Stars!

It was bestowed by Mr. Fool prior to the current events with added seals.

The moment he gripped the Staff of the Stars, Leonard allowed his thoughts to scatter and emptied his mind.

The Sun Derrick donned a crown that seemed to coalesce from dawn's light. Its ancient design exuded splendor, majesty, pride, and resilience.

This was "The Proof of Glory," a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact belonging to the City of Silver, once worn by the ancient god, Giant King Aurmir!

It had originally been used to seal the Gift of the Land. Not long ago, Mr. Fool had temporarily sealed the latter, enabling it to be lent out.

The holy and glorious light gathered more and more, forming a pure and solid barrier in the front and around. This both protected the companions and prevented the targets from escaping.

Madam Judgment, Xio Derecha, had just spent nearly a year filled with chaos digesting the Chaos Hunter potion. She had not yet had the chance to complete the ritual to advance to a neighboring pathway, Duke of Entropy, but this did not stop her from using the severely asymmetrical black-and-gold mask that caused discomfort upon sight.

She placed this Solomon's Mask on her face.

She and Franca would alternate in assisting Mr. Sun in utilizing the Proof of Glory—this Grade 0 Sealed Artifact required two Saints to wield.

The Moon Emlyn had already received the Sequence 1 Beauty Goddess Beyonder characteristic of the Moon pathway, along with the separated Sequence 2 Life-Giver Beyonder characteristic, bestowed by Ancestor Lilith. However, he did not dare to take the former out of the protected zones, fearing it might provoke an abnormal reaction from the Great Mother and introduce unknown risks.

He used his Life-Giver Beyonder characteristic as collateral to borrow a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact, the "Robe of Divine Blood," from the treasury of the Sanguine. He now had it draped over himself.

Madam Temperance Sharron held a three-layer jewelry box in her hands, its surface silver-black and embedded with various gemstones.

This was 0-61—Box of the Great Old Ones—borrowed from the Abraham family through Madam Magician.

This Sealed Artifact would randomly cause its holder to disappear, die suddenly, or undergo aberration. To counter this, Madam Temperance Sharron specifically visited the Angel of Fate Will before the operation and received His blessing.

Will was currently in the protected zone in the Southern Continent, maintaining stability and eliminating anomalies alongside Azik and other Angels. While He could not leave, granting blessings posed no issue.

Not only Madam Temperance Sharron but also The Star Leonard and the other participants in this operation received blessings from Will and a miracle from Mr. Fool to reduce the likelihood of negative random effects.

Magicians didn't perform unprepared.

The Hanged Man Alger held a thin brass book and the Card of Blasphemy, Tyrant.

The former was 0-02—Trunsoest Brass Book!

Having received assistance, Franca finally recovered. From the Traveler's Bag Lumian had entrusted to her earlier, she retrieved an ancient book bound in parchment: Post-Apocalyptic Scripture!

For this operation, every participating Saint from the Tarot Club carried a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact.

At this moment, a figure passed by, seemingly slow yet incredibly fast.

It was a woman who appeared to be in her forties, still stunningly beautiful and exuding charm, radiating an aura of maternal brilliance.

Upon seeing this figure, The Moon Emlyn's gaze froze instantly.

It was Roland, the former Matriarch of the Church of Earth Mother!

Roland appeared normal, her upper body bare, but numerous bird-clawed infants hung from her chest, covering the pale skin and constantly drawing nourishment.

She wore a faint smile, radiating crimson moonlight, as She passed through the battlefield and walked toward the special mirror world.