The Terror of Option Chapter 1087 1087: 34 COI

Transparent maggots, shimring under the starlight's embrace, wriggled out from the lady's relaxed palm, their movents concealed within an elusive crack. The crack, once invisible, now bore the hue of starlight.

With a vigorous pull, the transparent veil veiling this world let out a terrifying groan, unable to bear the weight. It parted forcefully, yielding to the unstoppable montum.

Amidst an indescribable shattering, the crevice ripped apart, transforming into a colossal cavity adorned with glimring starry specks.

It resembled the entrance to a tunnel leading to an unknown realm.

In a re instant, the woman in the orange dress vanished from the wilderness.

Seated within the cradle carriage, Lady Moon's expression flickered. She commanded the Demon-like creatures pulling the carriage to follow her into the tunnel.

Madam Judgnt trailed closely behind.

…

In a world where tree roots intertwined and ethereal clouds resembled oil paintings.

As the branches of the otherworldly tree secreted viscous black liquid and peculiar entities sprouted, Lumian felt his mind teetering on the edge of madness, despite Termiboros's warning not to gaze skyward.

His skin prickled, and the flesh beneath twitched unnaturally, as if masses or tumors were about to form.

At that mont, pure starlight bathed the world, casting its radiance upon Lumian's eyes.

Not far from him, a minuscule crack instantaneously expanded into a mystical and enigmatic door of starlight.

"Shut your eyes and rush through the doorway," Termiboros's resonant voice echoed in Lumian's ears.

Without a mont's hesitation, Lumian clutched Fallen rcury tightly with his bloodied left hand and sprinted toward the starlit door.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Lumian relied on a Hunter's instinctual understanding of spatial location and precise distance, reaching his destination within a few strides. Unperturbed by the changes around him or the lurking dangers, he leaped into the unknown.

After a brief bout of dizziness, Lumian sensed as though he had ascended from the depths of a profound lake, his entire being easing.

He opened his eyes and beheld the brownish-green silhouette of the Shadow Tree not far away, Auberge du Coq Doré, and other buildings cloaked in branches and vines. He witnessed streets divided by peculiar forces in various sections of the wilderness, rchants and passersby indulging in their individual desires, and Franca gracefully leaping from a second-story window of Auberge du Coq Doré.

He had departed from the alternate realm within the Tree of Shadows, yet he had not returned to the tangible world.

Franca also caught sight of Lumian nearby. She exclaid with excitent, "Hurry, find the exit!"

Although she had "summoned" Madam Judgnt and felt a asure of confidence, she desired no lingering stay in this place.

How could a re Sequence 7 like herself partake in a battle involving demigods? Even observing from a distance posed significant risks.

Lumian nodded and sprinted toward Franca, scanning his surroundings for any signs of an exit.

The more he surveyed, the more he sensed the resemblance to Paramita, a boon from the Great Mother. However, there were no hordes of undead or Demons casting sinners into the abyss.

Could it be that the Bliss Society's operation involved the followers of the Great Mother? Lumian swiftly ford a hypothesis and shouted to Franca, who was re inches away, "To the edge of the wilderness!"

Drawing from his experience, if this place was indeed Paramita, they should be able to escape from the wilderness's periphery.

Franca nodded slightly and followed, without questioning his instruction.

Suddenly, the wilderness convulsed with a violent quake, and a low rumble echoed from within the brownish-green tree.

The sky darkened, and the world itself teetered on the brink of collapse.

The branches and vines that had ensnared the buildings and streets swiftly withdrew. Vendors, pedestrians, and residents, caught in the grip of their desires, snapped out of their dazed states.

They ceased their ravenous feasting, released their grip on their partners, and rose in fear. Bloodied and bewildered, they halted their savage violence and looked around in a state of confusion…

In Auberge du Coq Doré, the bickering eloping couple ceased their romp. Oblivious to the wrongness of their actions, they were perplexed as to why the sky had darkened so drastically, as if evening had descended upon them.

Anthony Reid, trembling beneath a wooden table, regained his composure. He erged and peered out the window, his expression darkening.

Gabriel, who had been frantically signing his na, suddenly regained his senses. He wondered if the stress had taken its toll on his sanity while he polished the Lightseeker script, incorporating the theater manager's feedback.

Pavard Neeson, owner of the underground bar, set aside his paintbrush but couldn't tear his gaze away from the drawing board. Though he had only sketched it hastily, he felt it was the most remarkable work he had ever produced. It surpassed even his loftiest standards. Unconsciously, he yearned to return to that state, but he couldn't.

In the blink of an eye, all the branches and vines retracted into the Tree of Shadows. Most of the vendors, pedestrians, and residents, who had regained their senses, beheld the ominously terrifying brownish-green tree.

They didn't understand what had transpired, but fear propelled them to swiftly flee from the Tree of Shadows, heeding their instinctual warnings.

In that mont, Susanna Mattise, her turquoise hair flowing, materialized atop the ethereal tree crown. Below her stood Charlotte Calvino, wearing an expression of disappointnt, frustration, and hatred.

The escape of the sacrificial offering signaled a temporary failure in their sacrifice. They promptly departed the alternate realm to evade the repercussions of the demigod-level clash.

Susanna Mattise, beset by the backlash and the influence of godhood, appeared increasingly ethereal, as if she could dissipate at any mont.

Lumian and Franca, racing toward the wilderness's edge, flickered in her weakened gaze, yet she lacked the power to influence them.

Under normal circumstances, her fusion with the Tree of Shadows granted her the ability to exert her powers from a distance. However, the backlash from the interrupted ritual and the uncontrolled corruption following the Son of God's descent had nearly claid her life. She was now in an extrely feeble state.

The tenacious and evil spirit that she was, Susanna Mattise refused to surrender so easily. She yearned to capture Lumian and drag him back into the Tree of Shadows to resu the unfinished ritual.

Once again, the branches and vines of the Tree of Shadows swiftly extended, ensnaring a hapless vendor and hoisting him aloft. Their thorns pierced his flesh, absorbing the vital essence that could rejuvenate Susanna.

It was akin to utilizing the Tree of Shadows to enter a dream-like state, draining energy to gradually lead the target to their demise through a sinister encounter. However, the process had beco crude and expedited—an accelerated ordeal!

Vendors, pedestrians, and residents trapped within the wilderness erupted in terrified screams as they frantically fled upon witnessing the surge of brownish-green branch and vine monstrosities and their companions being hoisted into the air.

The eloping couple, wrapped tightly in a blanket, darted out of Auberge du Coq Doré, following in Anthony Reid's wake toward the wilderness's edge. Behind them trailed Gabriel, Pavard Neeson, and the tenants who hadn't yet departed for work. Before them sward vendors and pedestrians in a chaotic scramble.

One by one, fleeing escapees were snatched up by tree branches and vines, their cries for help piercing the air.

The peddler, who had once served Lumian extra Whiskey Sour, stumbled over a rock on the ground. In utter despair, he witnessed turquoise vines creeping up his body, layer upon layer, engulfing him entirely.

Sensing the commotion, Lumian turned his head and fixated on the scene for several seconds before gradually slowing his pace.

Upon witnessing this, Franca cursed, "Do you plan to go back and save them? Dammit! Know your place. You're just a wanted criminal, a mob leader!"

Lumian didn't co to a halt, but he didn't hasten his steps either.

He and Franca drew ever nearer to the edge of the wilderness.

In that very mont, Lumian's ears resonated with the majestic voice of Termiboros.

This ti, the angel of Inevitability did not deliver sentences one by one. Instead, He injected a lengthy paragraph into Lumian's consciousness at intervals.

"Have you not co to terms with your destiny?

"After enduring the might of Inevitability, there shall naturally be a corresponding corruption.

"From the mont Cordu was obliterated, you beca the unfortunate one.

"It was not I who exerted influence over you in many past matters; rather, it was your hapless fate playing its part.

"As an unfortunate soul, not only shall you suffer ill fortune, but so too shall those around you and those close to you.

"If it were not for your lack of knowledge in mysticism, which allowed Susanna Mattise to uncover the issue within your body and begin contacting Hugues Artois about employing the chemical plant explosion for the sacrificial arrangent, Jenna's mother would not have taken her own life, and Jenna's brother would not have descended into madness.

"If you had been cautious enough, when Flang regained consciousness and drank with you, you would have rembered to seek an opportunity to engage a genuine psychiatrist. He may not have chosen the path of suicide.

"If you had not rely forewarned Ruhr, but also restricted his movents, he would not have succumbed to the illness once more and t a swift demise. Michel would not have lost her will to live.

"All this misfortune has been brought upon them by you.

"My existence is not solely a trump card that grants you boons and the power to deter others, but also an inescapable curse.

"Only by bowing to Inevitability and releasing from my seal can your misfortune co to an end.

"If you continue on this path, you shall be unable to save those whom you wish to save. You shall be unable to protect those whom you wish to protect. You shall only amplify their misfortunes.

"When the ti cos, those pleading for help here shall perish.

"Gabriel shall perish.

"Charlie shall perish.

"Jenna shall perish.

"Franca, too, shall et her demise."

Lumian ca to a sudden halt, his countenance twisted in anguish. He could no longer conceal the pain that consud him.

Franca called out once more, "Get a grip! It's all well and good to do good deeds when everything is fine. But now, we need to escape and seek help from official Beyonders! Who knows what will co of those demigod battles? Susanna is now like an empowered Sequence 5 with so godlike abilities. She's not soone we can handle!

"Those people don't expect assistance from a villain who enjoys playing pranks on them!"

In the vicinity of the brownish-green tree, nurous individuals already dangled from its branches.

With a swoosh, Gabriel was hoisted up by a few green vines, and the scattered pages of the Lightseeker script fluttered to the ground.

Pavard Neeson, the owner of the underground bar, stood beside him, his body impaled by a protruding spike.

Among the eloping couple, the woman stumbled and ran slower, eventually tripping over a branch and becoming ensnared by the vines.

The young man wrapped in a blanket grew alard and continued onward. However, after a few steps, he abruptly halted, cursing himself.

"Dogsh*t!"

Before he could finish his sentence, he had already spun around and dashed back toward his partner. Clenching his teeth, he sought to tear at the vines and help her free.

Desperate cries and terrified screams reverberated through the wilderness.

Lumian's fists clenched involuntarily.

Suddenly, he let out a chuckle and spoke.

"Then, are you considered close to ? After all, you reside within my body. Will you also encounter misfortune?

"I know I will face countless failures, yet I will persist again and again in pursuit of that elusive and seemingly insignificant hope!

"If I had chosen to surrender, I would have been defeated long ago!

"And now, there is still a chance for success."

With that, Lumian took another step and continued his sprint toward the edge of the wilderness.

Although Franca couldn't comprehend his mutterings, she was glad to see that he had made a wise decision.

Two to three seconds later, the two of them reached the wilderness's edge. Lumian deliberately maintained a distance from Franca, then suddenly extended his arms and pushed her out.

Caught off guard, Franca watched in shock as her body gradually left the wilderness. She turned to gaze at Lumian.

Lumian smiled and spoke gently, "Once, I shared their despair, pain, and longing for aid. And during that ti, soone extended a helping hand to ."

With those words, he pivoted and sprinted toward the brownish-green tree.

In the dim expanse of the wilderness, crimson flas ignited upon his body. This ti, the fiery cloak no longer isolated him from his garnts, scorching his skin and flesh.

He intended to use the constant pain to resist the diverse desires he would encounter next!

As he ran, his gaze locked onto Susanna, her turquoise hair entwined. Yet, he "saw" not only the Fallen Tree Spirit, but also the figure etched in his mory.

The one who had illuminated his path.

-x-X-x-

Susanna's eyes fixed on Lumian as he dashed towards her, his body engulfed in crimson flas. She absorbed energy from the surrounding crowd, including peddlers, pedestrians, and tenants hanging from the trees. Her goal was to restore her combat abilities as quickly as possible.

She wasn't worried about Lumian causing her harm. Positioned at the top of the tree crown, she knew he couldn't reach her. Moreover, she was one with the Tree of Shadow, making her nearly invulnerable. Without godhood, any attack would only cause minor injuries, incapable of killing or severely harming her.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Lumian sprinted into an area where tree branches and vines entangled, with a hundred to two hundred humans dangling from above.

The brownish-green foliage tried to ensnare and pierce him, but his fiery aura forced them to retreat in panic.

Suddenly, a rumbling sound shook the ground. The brownish-green tree descended rapidly, shrinking its height to seven to eight ters.

The violent tremors across the wilderness made it difficult for Lumian to advance.

…

Rumble. A tremor like an earthquake shook the crystal chandelier in the banquet hall. Terrified expressions appeared on the faces of most people present. Quick-thinking individuals sought shelter under the long table draped in a white tablecloth.

The team assigned to protect Hugues Artois consisted of Imre, a mixed-blood individual, Valentine, and a Warrior pathway Beyonder nad Antoine.

Sensing the anomaly simultaneously, they tacitly sent Imre to investigate. He rushed to the window and peered out, trying to locate the source of the disturbance.

Imre observed that several houses in Rue Anarchie, Rue du Rossignol, and Rue des Blouses Blanches had tilted to a certain degree, but they had not collapsed. Their surfaces were covered with brownish-green branches and vines.

In comparison, the prominent feature was the brownish-green tree, situated roughly on Rue Anarchie. It descended, adorned with nurous tree tumors and flowers.

The scene lasted only a few seconds before returning to normal, as if an unsuccessful painting had been replaced by another work.

"What's happening?" Hugues Artois calmly approached the window and inquired.

Imre didn't hold back any information. He lowered his voice and replied sincerely, "Anomalies have occurred on Rue Anarchie, Rue du Rossignol, and Rue des Blouses Blanches."

Rue Anarchie, Rue du Rossignol, Rue des Blouses Blanches… As Jenna, who had approached a nearby window but missed witnessing the scene, heard the street nas, her feet froze in place.

Two nas imdiately surfaced in her mind: Ciel, Franca…

Had they encountered the anomaly? Jenna's heart sank, and she instinctively looked at Hugues Artois.

She noticed a curl forming on the mber of parliant's lips, as if he couldn't hide his delight.

It's him… It's him and his group of heretics! Jenna's mind instantly reached a conclusion. Darkness enveloped her, and despair surged through her uncontrollably.

Could Franca and Ciel withstand the planned attack by the heretics and survive this anomaly?

Should I rush to their aid with my current strength? Or will I only bring harm to them?

At that mont, Jenna felt as if the pillars supporting her—her two friends who had always stood by her side—were about to crumble, just as she had lost her mother.

And it was all the fault of the heretics, of Hugues Artois!

Her thoughts drifted to Franca's words when she consud the potion and transford into an Assassin, warning Jenna to avoid contact with evil gods.

"Contact with evil gods will bring nothing but disaster.

"Not only will it drive a person to madness and strip away their true self, but it will also drag everyone around them into darkness, whether they know them or not.

"If we don't eliminate those individuals, the influence of the evil gods will persist. The pain will return again and again, unending."

And now, Hugues Artois stood at the center of all the market district's disasters.

Jenna lowered her head, unable to et Hugues Artois's gaze, afraid that her eyes would betray the pain and hatred within.

Hatred consud her!

Yet, she could only remind herself that her brother Julien was still alive, albeit with a certain ntal ailnt that could be cured. If he lost his sister next, he might truly spiral into irredeemable madness.

After the banquet concludes, after the factory owners provide their "compensation," and after I settle all our debts, I'll take Julien and leave the market district and Quartier du Jardin Botanique. We'll find another place to live, far from the ensuing pain… Jenna repeated these words to herself, desperately trying to contain her emotions.

"Why is there another anomaly?" Hugues Artois questioned Imre, Valentine, and Antoine.

Imre offered a bitter smile and replied, "I witnessed that tree. It has appeared multiple tis in Trier's history, but it has never been fully resolved."

Ever since joining the Purifier team in Trier, he had learned about the hidden dangers lurking beneath the ground that couldn't be entirely purified. The brownish-green tree was one of them.

He, his superiors, and his teammates couldn't fathom why Trier had been established atop such things in the first place.

Without giving Hugues Artois ti to question their capabilities any further, Imre added,

"Now that the anomaly has been discovered, it won't be long before it's suppressed."

As a mber of the elite Purifier team, he knew that Trier differed from other countries' capitals. Due to the perpetual underground dangers, both the forr royal family and the current parliantary governnt had agreed to the two Churches' secret dispatching of an angel each or placed Grade 0 Sealed Artifacts in Trier to prevent any mishaps.

Of course, during periods when the royal family and governnt held imnse power, the Church's angels refrained from interfering. For example, during Emperor Roselle's reign.

Once the anomaly caused by the peculiar tree was exposed, it would swiftly face a devastating blow. Although it couldn't be completely eradicated, it would be kept under control for a considerable ti.

…

After the swift and violent descent of the Tree of Shadow, the wilderness stabilized. Gabriel, Pavard Neeson, and the others remained suspended from the branches, their faces growing pale and blackened, as if drained of energy.

Lumian regained his balance and continued sprinting towards the nearby brownish-green tree, still engulfed in crimson flas.

At that mont, Susanna Mattise had regained a significant portion of her strength. Lumian's figure appeared in her eyes, awaiting his approach within the range of her current abilities.

Behind Lumian, a shadow detached itself from its owner and stealthily lunged at his back.

It was Charlotte Calvino, "acting" as a shadow!

Having not been the host of the ritual and being far from the treetop, she had not suffered the backlash or intense corruption, thus her strength had not waned. Seeing Lumian turn around, she quickly hid herself, and put to show her acting abilities, ready to execute a surprise attack

Suddenly, a gunshot pierced through the air in the distance.

The iron-black bullet was too distant and lacked precision. It grazed Charlotte's body, but it disrupted her plans.

Wearing a blouse, light-colored breeches, and red boots, Franca erged at the edge of the wilderness, clutching a brass revolver. She cursed at Lumian's retreating form and shouted, "F*ck, don't you think I'm on your team?"

…

Noticing that the street had returned to its "normal" state, Hugues Artois made his way back to the center of the banquet hall, holding a glass of light-gold champagne. Standing before the gathering, he began his speech as usual.

"Ladies and gentlen, it is an honor to have you join us for this condolence banquet. Please join in a mont of silence to honor those who have tragically departed…

"As you can see, yet another accident has occurred in the market district. We cannot continue like this. We must establish a more efficient and adaptable system to handle such situations.

"I understand that many of you harbor anger and fear in light of the recent accident. Your loved ones may have lost their lives, sustained severe injuries, or perhaps experienced agitation, ntal breakdowns, and madness as a result of this…"

Jenna's head shot up upon hearing these words, her gaze fixed on Hugues Artois once more.

He had just ntioned "agitation, ntal breakdowns, and madness" in such specific detail.

Under normal circumstances, such elaboration would not be necessary. A simple reference to insanity would suffice.

Did Hugues Artois know that soone would suffer a ntal breakdown due to the chemical plant explosion and go mad? And was he deliberately ntioning it in his speech, as if a criminal returning to the cri scene, reveling in his sinister handiwork? An absurd mix of hatred and fear consud Jenna's heart.

If her suspicions were correct, Julien's ntal breakdown might have been influenced by the heretics!

Could he be cured? Could he be saved?

If I don't sever the source, even if I leave the market district with Julien, there might still be hidden dangers and lingering problems in the future! The feeling of desperation overwheld Jenna, as if she were trapped in an inescapable darkness.

Her pupils dilated, reflecting Hugues Artois's figure with a chilling clarity.

Imre, Valentine, and Antoine's expressions darkened, their gazes falling, as they heard Hugues Artois's implicit accusations against the two Churches.

…

The alternate space that accompanied the Tree of Shadow lay in ruins. So areas were coated with pitch-black mucus, while others bore gaping holes, as if swallowed by an endless void.

Suddenly, a glimr of light erged from the shrunken door of starlight.

It grew brighter and brighter, akin to a transford sun, illuminating every nook and cranny with an eerie clarity, banishing all shadows.

A female figure draped in a white robe adorned with golden threads erged from the radiant source. She appeared to be crafted from pure light, translucent and ethereal. With erald green eyes and flowing blond hair, she exuded beauty and a divine aura.

The guardian angel of Trier, Saint Viève.

…

Amidst the applause, Hugues Artois, having concluded his speech, mingled with the families of the victims, champagne glass in hand. He displayed enthusiasm, friendliness, and a trustworthy deanor.

Jenna closed her eyes and wandered towards the long table dressed in a white tablecloth. She picked up a plate and placed so food on it, then grabbed a long silver fork and began to eat.

As she ate, she slowly approached Hugues Artois in a daze.

Drawing near, just two ters away, she assud a stance that suggested a conversation with Monsieur mber of Parliant.

Surrounded by his team and guarded by official Beyonders, Hugues Artois noticed Jenna. He smiled warmly, anticipating her approach.

Jenna passed by Secretary Rh?ne and positioned herself a step away from Hugues Artois.

Before their conversation could comnce, the ground trembled once more, accompanied by a resounding rumble. Rue Anarchie and Rue des Blouses Blanches seed to brighten significantly.

Cassandra, Hugues Artois, and the others turned their bodies instinctively, gazing out of the window, their concern evident.

Witnessing this, Jenna closed her eyes once more. Then, she took a step forward, raising the silver fork in her hand towards Hugues Artois!

All the emotions suppressed within her heart erupted.

You wretched politician, the bringer of disaster and darkness to the market district!

You heretic, your conscience devoured by a dog!

You are the bastard responsible for my mother's death and my brother's descent into madness!

Perish now!

Without your demise, the suffering in the market district shall never cease. Darkness shall engulf this place, preventing the dawn from breaking.

Indeed, with heretics surrounding you and the protection of official Beyonders, anyone attempting to confront you would et their demise here, dissuaded by the risk.

But what if an assassin has no intention of leaving alive?

Jenna channeled all her hatred, outrage, and pain into the long-handled silver fork in her grasp. She unleashed an Assassin's Mighty Blow, aiming for Hugues Artois's exposed right eye as he turned his body.

In that mont, she glimpsed the surprise, confusion, and fear etched upon his face. She witnessed Hugues Artois frantically glancing towards Cassandra, pleading for assistance.

Cassandra's line of sight was obstructed by Purifier Imre, who had subtly stepped diagonally, leaving her unaware of the imminent danger.

With a squelching sound, the long-handled silver fork in Jenna's right hand plunged deep into Hugues Artois's eye socket, piercing into his brain.

Hugues Artois's expression froze. The fear, confusion, and terror remained etched on his visage. Ti did not permit much change, only revealing a profound sense of despair.

Jenna watched as crimson blood gushed forth, and Hugues Artois's countenance gradually crumbled under the lights. Surrounding her, red sparks erupted, whether from firearms or supernatural abilities. She closed her eyes with a serene smile, surrendering to her fate.

Mother, I see the light.

-x-X-x-

Hugues Artois's initial reaction was one of surprise and confusion as he beheld the glimring silver light emanating from the long-handled fork, thrusting nacingly towards him.

He found it hard to fathom that soone would attempt to assassinate him, a well-protected mber of parliant, under these circumstances.

The assassin didn't appear particularly formidable.

Despite being a retired veteran, he had left military service five years ago to pursue a career in politics. His combat skills were no longer honed. With the adversary a re step apart, evading the attack effectively seed impossible.

Disregarding him, even a Sequence 9 or even a Sequence 8 Beyonder would likely struggle to dodge a Mighty Blow from an Assassin, especially one who had stealthily approached them. It all depended on whether their abilities could help them avoid vital areas or reduce the damage, thus preventing instant death.

Naturally, so Sequence 8 or 9 Beyonders possessed the ability to sense danger or hostility ahead of ti, thwarting the approach and attack of Assassins.

In an instant, Hugues Artois cast his gaze upon the red-haired Cassandra, the three official Beyonders, and his subordinates Rh?ne, Margaret, and Boduva, feeling intense fear grip him.

However, what t his eyes was Cassandra's red hair—her body and line of sight obscured by the mixed-blood Imre—as well as the calm and indifferent gazes of the official Beyonders, Imre and Antoine. Valentine had reacted imdiately but restrained himself, and Rh?ne, Margaret, and Boduva, though eager to use their Beyonder powers to save him, dared not expose their boons obtained from the evil gods.

At that mont, Hugues Artois was overwheld by a profound sense of despair.

You all, save !

Save !

With a squelching sound, the long-handled silver fork plunged rcilessly into Hugues Artois's right eye, propelled with all the force Jenna could muster. It pierced through the eye socket, penetrating the brain, with only a small portion of the handle protruding outside.

Hugues Artois's thoughts beca hazy.

He yearned to reach out and grasp sothing, but his arm wouldn't even rise.

I haven't beco president… I haven't witnessed the arrival of great existences… I haven't received the boon of godhood… I cannot die like this… Slain by a feeble Assassin… I-I don't wish to perish… A barrage of thoughts flashed through Hugues Artois's mind as gunshots resounded in his ears.

His body slumped to the ground, and darkness enveloped his vision once more.

Thud. Hugues Artois, mber of parliant for Le Marché du Quartier du Gentleman, collapsed onto the ground, his heart ceasing to beat.

Jenna, her eyes shut and a smile adorning her face, was struck by bullets fired by nearby Bureau 7 agents.

One bullet struck her shoulder, and another pierced her ribs from the opposite side.

The pain contorted her expression instinctively. Her body involuntarily recoiled, as if she wished to curl up into a protective ball.

She opened her eyes and beheld Rh?ne and the other devotees of the evil gods glaring at her with hatred and an unnatural panic, yet refraining from attacking.

In the next instant, a golden revolver, its chamber loaded, pressed against Jenna's head. Imre surveyed the room and declared, "I have already subdued the assassin. Verify if Monsieur mber of Parliant can be saved and maintain order. No one should leave for the ti being."

He made it clear that he intended to escort Jenna back to église Saint-Robert or inquire on the spot about the motive behind the assassination and the mastermind, preventing Cassandra and the others from venting their rage.

…

As the Tree of Shadow descended, the various streets reverted to their original state, yet they remained engulfed in wilderness.

Lumian perceived that Susanna Mattise could no longer stir his desires from a distance as she did before. So, he turned around, intending to confront Charlotte first.

The crimson flas enveloping his body burned with intensity, scorching his garnts and searing his skin and flesh to varying degrees, inflicting constant pain.

This tornt stimulated his mind, allowing him to maintain a certain level of clarity. He could also rely on the endurance bestowed by the Alms Monk boon to sustain his thoughts and actions, instead of rely focusing on enduring the agony.

Even for Pyromaniacs, such incineration posed a threat. Moreover, as ti passed, the damage would worsen, eventually endangering their lives.

Of course, long before that point, Lumian's spirituality would likely crumble. He could only allow the flas to extinguish on their own.

Were it not for the Alms Monk boon and the internal struggle within the Tree of Shadow, his spirituality would have been strained by the self-immolation.

Upon seeing Lumian turn and observe "Red Boots" Franca dashing toward her with a brass classic revolver, sliding across a layer of frost ford beneath her feet, Charlotte abandoned her plans for a surprise attack. Instead, she readied herself to return to the Tree of Shadow, where she could exploit the environnt and enhance her abilities to confront the enemy.

Her body instantaneously grew pliable, as though secreting a slimy substance.

She "acted" as a serpent-like creature, utilizing the intertwining vines and branches to swiftly retreat toward the brownish-green tree.

At that mont, Charlotte's body froze.

It was akin to facing a dragon head-on, confronting a predator at the apex of the biological hierarchy. She couldn't help but tremble with fear and overwhelming panic.

She circled her imdiate vicinity and ran haphazardly, as if fleeing from an unseen adversary.

Not far from her, Anthony Reid, the information broker, erged from behind an iron-black gas street lamp post, suspended by the vines and branches of the Auberge du Coq Doré.

At so point, his dark brown eyes had transford into a pale golden hue, adopting a vertical orientation.

He was a Psychiatrist, a Sequence 7 Psychiatrist of the Spectator pathway.

He had just employed Awe!

In ancient tis, it was referred to as Dragon Might!

The brownish-green vines and branches surrounding Anthony Reid, manipulated by Susanna rather than the Tree of Shadow, cowered and retreated from him.

Observing Charlotte's descent into madness and confusion, rendering her unable to evade Lumian's attacks, Susanna, who desperately absorbed vitality, narrowed her eyes and cursed, unable to conceal her deep-seated hatred.

"You shall all perish. Today, you shall all et your demise!"

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! On the Tree of Shadow, new tree trunks distinct from the main body shot forth like javelins, aid at impaling Lumian in the midst of the wilderness.

Apart from utilizing the abilities of the Fallen Tree Spirit, Susanna Mattise had not yet regained sufficient strength to affect targets dozens or even nearly a hundred ters away.

Lumian had foreseen this. With a roll, he positioned himself within the area where Charlotte aimlessly fled.

Thud! Thud! Thud! The tree trunk javelins impaled the ground nearby, pounding the wilderness like hamrs.

Lumian rose to his feet, engulfed in crimson flas. He extended his arms slightly and let out a boisterous laugh.

"Bring it on, kill !"

If Susanna were to blanket the area with relentless assaults once again, he could still find a way to evade them. However, Charlotte, lost in her state of confusion, would undoubtedly et her demise!

As he bellowed, half-illusory crimson Fire Ravens materialized behind Lumian. They circled and traced multiple trajectories, fixating their sights on Charlotte Calvino.

The branches and vines on the ground surged wildly, swiftly ensnaring Charlotte, shielding her from harm.

A series of thunderous sounds resounded as the crimson Fire Ravens descended upon Charlotte, shattering tree branches and igniting vines, systematically stripping away layer after layer of the Actor's outer shell.

Bang!

Franca, who had closed the distance, stepped in and extended her right hand, firmly squeezing the trigger.

An iron-black bullet flew from the classic brass revolver and struck Charlotte's head with precision, piercing through the gap created by the Fire Ravens.

The enchanting, pure, and delicate visage instantly shattered, with red and white fluids splattering forth from her eyes, nose, and mouth.

With only its severed head remaining, the lifeless body stumbled a few steps in confusion before finally collapsing to the ground.

"Go to hell!" Susanna roared.

With that cry, brown branches, green vines, thick limbs, and pale-colored blossoms surged forth in a multitude of forms, converging upon Lumian, Franca, and Anthony.

Despite the nightmarish scene unfolding before them, Lumian sensed no imdiate peril.

Until Susanna Mattise regained a certain level of strength, an attack that consud a significant amount of spirituality posed no true threat.

Lumian charged forward once more, carrying the crimson flas that devoured his flesh, venturing deeper into the primordial forest-like setting.

Vines ignited, flowers turned to ash, branches charred, yet none impeded the enemy's advance toward the Tree of Shadow.

Suddenly, the objects recoiled, drawing the suspended human captives back into the embrace of the Tree of Shadow.

Susanna had thought it through. There was no need to squander energy rely to vent her rage. It was wiser to await the approach of the three prey, luring them into the range where desire could take hold, before employing her most formidable abilities to deal with them.

She could not accept her current weakness. That was one of the reasons why she refrained from invoking the incantation to seek assistance initially.

Before dragging the offering into the Tree of Shadow, the Son of God dared not reveal Himself in Trier. In the future, Susanna possessed a asure of confidence and needed to push the offering to a certain extent, securing the protection of the ritual. Only then could she utilize her fusion with the Tree of Shadow to confront the Son of God.

The Son of God was astonishingly deranged. He would never restrain the corruption He might inflict upon His subordinates.

As for Lady Moon, she had rely pledged to intercept potential saboteurs temporarily. Susanna dared not permit devotees of other deities to enter the Tree of Shadow.

Thud, thud, thud. Lumian raced through the abruptly vacated wilderness and dilapidated streets, sprinting toward the brownish-green tree. Franca and Anthony each selected their respective angles of attack and followed suit from different directions.

The fortunate vendors, pedestrians, and tenants who had yet to be ensnared by the branches and vines seized the opportunity to flee the wilderness, making their way towards the outskirts.

-x-X-x-

It didn't take long for Lumian, Franca, and Anthony to approach the Tree of Shadow, stepping within the effective range of Susanna's powers.

One of them had run out of Mysticism Slling Salts and was consud by crimson flas. His skin grew numb, but his flesh still burned with pain. Another moved gracefully, constantly shifting positions. Every now and then, she would inhale the scent of the tal canister in her hand and let out a sneeze. The third employed the Psychiatrist's Placate ability to pacify his emotions and desires.

In the ethereal crown of the tree, Susanna Mattise, positioned only four to five ters above the ground, grunted. Franca, dressed in a blouse and light-colored trousers, saw her reflection in Susanna's eyes.

Suddenly, intense fear gripped Franca.

Yet, this fear didn't arise from the outside world or grow abnormally intense. Rather, it originated from her understanding of the current situation and her desire to survive.

Susanna Mattise, fused with the peculiar tree, couldn't be treated as a re Sequence 5. She ought to be regarded as a weakened Sequence 4, one lacking an incomplete Mythical Creature form!

Franca believed that Susanna Mattise would swiftly dispatch her, Lumian, and the information broker.

Before saving anyone, she had to save herself!

Franca halted, her yearning for life impossible to suppress.

She struggled, torn between the urge to flee and the nagging feeling that she shouldn't abandon her teammates.

Susanna Mattise's erald eyes shifted toward Anthony Reid.

The information broker, his emotions and desires now stabilized, shuddered suddenly, an all-too-familiar fear surging from the depths of his heart.

A Spectator afflicted by severe ntal deficiencies is all too easy to deal with… Anthony Reid fully comprehended his predicant, yet he lacked the power to resist.

A helpless sigh escaped his lips. When his Placate failed, he trembled and retreated to a corner, succumbing to overwhelming fear.

Swiftly, Susanna Mattise incapacitated Lumian's two companions, leaving them unable to offer aid for the mont.

Then, she directed her gaze at Lumian, who stood less than ten ters away from the Tree of Shadow.

As an evil spirit, Susanna possessed boundless extremism and persistence. She still sought to capture this sacrifice.

Despite the ritual causing a great uproar, prompting nurous saints and even angels to rush and intervene, making its success unlikely, the Tree of Shadow could not be destroyed. It wouldn't even suffer significant harm. Unless the Eternal Blazing Sun or the God of Steam and Machinery were willing to bury the millions of people residing in Trier and expose even graver underlying problems underground, there would always be another opportunity, even if the present one failed.

As long as Lumian remained within her grasp, the sacrificial offering that perfectly sealed an angel, it wouldn't take long for Susanna to attempt the ritual once more!

Hence, the malevolent spirit, Susanna Mattise, desired to capture Lumian alive.

In an instant, Lumian's pace slowed, his mind consud by the sa thoughts.

I mustn't die. I mustn't die. If I perish, Aurore will have no hope of revival…

I must survive and uncover the truth behind the Cordu disaster. I must understand why Aurore believes in Inevitability…

These people have no connection to . What does it matter if they die? Don't countless lives perish every day in this world? Can I even prevent that?

"…"

Lumian's pace grew sluggish, his expression contorting in agony.

The fiery crimson flas that engulfed him continued to burn, inflicting pain while also sharpening his senses.

But the more aware he beca, the stronger his desire to survive.

This ti, Susanna's influence over his desires had not faltered.

The Fallen Tree Spirit summoned an array of vines, branches, and tree trunks from the Tree of Shadow, ensnaring Lumian within a small circular periter of less than ten ters. The once open space transford into a dense, ancient forest teeming with vegetation.

Damp, pale-hued flowers sprouted from the roots, vines, and branches, releasing odorless anesthetic gases that threatened to lull the surroundings into a deep slumber.

In that mont, Lumian's yearning for life aligned with his other thoughts.

To escape this dire predicant and survive, he had to press forward and defeat Susanna Mattise!

Lumian surged forward once more, gathering semi-illusory crimson flas behind him, spiraling them toward Susanna Mattise, who hovered rely four ters above the ground.

He didn't expect this assault to harm the Fallen Tree Spirit. After all, Susanna Mattise had rged with the Tree of Shadow, granting her formidable defenses and vitality. Moreover, she wasn't a mindless foe who couldn't dodge attacks or employ superpowers to safeguard herself.

Lumian's objective was to montarily disrupt Susanna Mattise's focus and impede her from inciting another desire imdiately.

This ti, the crimson Fire Ravens managed to breach the ethereal barrier. They passed through the weakened defenses and hurtled toward Susanna Mattise.

Layers of brownish-green vines and branches encased Susanna Mattise, enveloping her in a wooden sphere, her pair of green eyes the only feature visible.

Amidst the rumbling, the plant-like encasent exploded, replaced swiftly by fresh growth.

anwhile, less than ten ters slipped away in the blink of an eye for Lumian.

Vast amounts of slumberous gas corroded his body, but they were swiftly consud and evaporated by the searing crimson flas. The charred scent of his flesh neutralized the remaining fus, leaving only a small portion to infiltrate Lumian's nostrils.

His thoughts slowed, his head spun, yet his movents remained unaffected for the ti being.

Harnessing his montum, Lumian alternated between his left and right feet, launching a forceful kick against the brownish-green trunk. He propelled himself forward by a couple of ters before leaping high into the air, his gaze fixed upon Susanna Mattise.

Behind him, a colossal fireball gradually took shape. His eyes reflected the wooden sphere and Susanna Mattise's erald-green gaze.

It seed as though he intended to hurtle himself at the treetop, obliterating the encasing of plants with the mighty fireball.

This particular stance bore an evident elent of showmanship. Lumian's desire to perform had been subtly provoked by Susanna Mattise, even if his ceaseless pain could only be slightly suppressed.

Susanna Mattise grinned, allowing sharp brownish-green tree trunks to erge from the surface of the encasent like a porcupine baring its spikes, ready to impale any unsuspecting prey.

Once Lumian sustained grave injuries, the vines and branches forming the sphere would unfurl, taking complete control of their captive.

As the massive fireball solidified, Lumian began his descent.

Yet, instead of lunging at Susanna Mattise, he regarded her with an air of superiority, eye to eye.

Still, he refrained from attacking. He continued his descent. Susanna Mattise wore a puzzled expression, perplexed by his failure to walk into her trap.

Only when Lumian touched down below the treetop did he make his next move.

The massive, incomplete fireball detonated, propelling him toward the trunk of the Tree of Shadow like a cannonball.

In his left hand, he wielded Fallen rcury, now adorned with cracks.

Right from the start, Lumian hadn't set his sights on Susanna Mattise, who possessed freedom of movent and the advantages of being a Sequence 5. It would be highly risky, with little chance of success and much danger involved.

His sole objective was to strike the Tree of Shadow with Fallen rcury, a single strike!

Without the enhancent of Termiboros, Fallen rcury alone wouldn't be enough to alter the fate of the brownish-green tree. However, Lumian was confident that Susanna Mattise had fused to so extent with the Tree of Shadow. As the na "Fallen Tree Spirit" implied, a tree was necessary to embody a tree spirit.

This understanding derived not only from Lumian's observations but also from Franca's speculations and Susanna Mattise's own admissions and actions.

In essence, when Fallen rcury pierced the Tree of Shadow, there was a strong possibility that it would alter the fate of Susanna Mattise, who had rged with it, rather than the fate of the Tree of Shadow itself!

Lumian's actions were intended to deceive Susanna Mattise into overconfidence, ensuring she wouldn't impede his approach to the Tree of Shadow or hinder him from gathering a fireball for propulsion.

And Susanna Mattise's manipulation of his desire to perform only fueled Lumian's confidence further.

Though acting was a waste of ti and could potentially lead to missed opportunities, it also served as a cover for one's true intentions!

With a loud crash, Lumian and Fallen rcury collided with the brownish-green trunk. Ribs cracked, wrist snapped, his entire body battered by the explosion and impact. But he managed to drive the pewter-black dirk through the outer bark and into the second layer.

As expected, Lumian didn't "see" the torrent of historical scenes. Instead, he sensed the illusionary river, shimring with a rcury hue, that belonged to Susanna Mattise.

In the next instant, his desire was manipulated once again, and a barrage of javelins rained down from the ethereal tree crown.

Releasing his hold on the pewter-black dirk, Lumian entrusted the rest to Fallen rcury.

He plumted to the ground, using the pain to reclaim consciousness. With a swift roll, he evaded the tree javelins that impaled the earth.

When Susanna Mattise realized Lumian's true intent, she felt vexed, angry, and sowhat fearful.

The previous use of the pewter-black dirk had left a deep impression on her.

However, she wasn't overly concerned for her safety. With her connection to the Tree of Shadow, it would be arduous for her to be slain, even if she encountered a saint. Her worry lay in the possibility of severe injury, which would thwart her chance of capturing her prey once more.

At that mont, Fallen rcury shattered into pewter-black fragnts, silently descending to the ground.

Long worn and weakened, it could no longer endure.

However, its destruction also brought an end to the fate exchange, which should have taken several minutes to complete. It didn't stir any fate within Susanna Mattise. It rely bestowed upon her the fate stored within the blade.

Normally, this would be impossible as Fallen rcury had to adhere to corresponding rules. But now, shattered and fragnted, it couldn't care less.

Susanna Mattise froze, purple flas erupting from her body.

Fallen rcury had bestowed upon her the fate of the Tree of Shadow's root being consud by an unseen underground fire. As a tree trunk akin to the Tree of Shadow, she couldn't escape this fate!

In a re second, the purple flas vanished, leaving Susanna Mattise reduced to ashes, her eyes filled with disbelief and astonishnt.

A tree trunk erupted in flas, cracking and collapsing.

-x-X-x-

The branches and vines pursuing Lumian swiftly withdrew, as if responding to an unseen command. A javelin-like tree trunk crashed down, causing the rest to vanish into thin air.

Gasping for breath, Lumian cast his gaze upward as he sprinted onward.

At that mont, his eyes fell upon the incinerated form of Susanna Mattise, consud by the vegetative sphere that had enveloped her. Not far off, he witnessed an unfamiliar tree trunk snap and succumb to fiery destruction.

She's dead! Relief flooded Lumian's being. She's dead! The burden of his struggle lifted, and he crumpled to the ground, no longer able to hold on.

The crimson flas that had enveloped him abruptly extinguished, unveiling his charred and disfigured body.

With great effort, Lumian struggled to prop himself up, his back pressed against the vine- and branch-adorned wall of the Auberge du Coq Doré. He resembled a forsaken vagabond, abandoned by the world, a hint of derision in his voice as he observed the Tree of Shadow sinking deeper and deeper into the earth.

Moreover, he witnessed the vines and branches retracting into the main trunk, the once-suspended individuals released from their tethers and descending to the ground from varying heights.

Among the initial group of victims, whose essence had been drained, three to four individuals remained suspended nearly three ters above the ground. Already weakened, most of their remaining vitality escaped as they suffered the harsh impact, causing them to lose consciousness on the spot. Perhaps there was still hope for their salvation, or perhaps they were beyond rescue.

The hundreds who had been suspended but had not yet lost a significant portion of their essence sustained various injuries from the fall. Though their lives were not imdiately endangered, they hurriedly rose to their feet, driven to escape to the fringes of the wilderness.

Gabriel's complexion turned pale, bruises marring his hands and feet. Rather than fleeing, his initial instinct led him to stoop and collect the scattered Lightseeker script from the ground. The eloping couple, entwined together in their suspension, exchanged curses for being a hindrance, but they supported one another as they limped forward, their legs injured from the fall. They joined the fleeing throng, vanishing into the distance. Pavard Neeson, the proprietor of the clandestine underground bar, suffered relatively minor injuries. Grasping the freshly drawn draft, he raced ahead…

Charred and weary, Lumian settled on the street, leaning against the Auberge du Coq Doré, situated perilously close to the Tree of Shadow. Tilting his head back against the wall, he wore a faint smile while observing the energetic exodus of peddlers, passersby, and inhabitants of modest abodes as they fled towards the outskirts of the wilderness.

…

Within the confines of the Tree of Shadow, Lady Moon beheld a tumultuous clash unfolding, with nurous angels and saints joining the fray. Her faction faced mounting pressure due to reinforcents from the two Churches and Bureau 8. An overwhelming sense of retreat washed over her.

Should this continue, the two Churches might resort to drastic asures, beseeching divine intervention! Lady Moon swiftly resolved.

Deprived of several abilities and ensnared by various Prohibitions, she pressed against the bulge in her abdon and parted her lips.

An ear-piercing Shriek erupted within this alternate realm, causing the nearly two-ter-tall Tree of Shadow before her to undergo an instantaneous tamorphosis.

Upon the branches and mist-shrouded bark, which depicted scenes from the past, figures born from diverse desires, now lifeless, sprang back to existence, save for Emperor Roselle.

Many were demigods, erging from their respective "histories" with vacant, icy expressions and an aura of chilling darkness.

Resurrection!

Empowered by the Divine Fetus nestled within her womb and the unique essence of the Tree of Shadow, Lady Moon temporarily revived the accumulated desires from over a millennium in their original corporeal forms.

Though the revival would be short-lived, and the resurrected beings notably weaker than before, the sudden influx of demigods into the battle within re seconds could profoundly impact the unfolding chaos.

It was precisely due to the tily aid of the Divine Fetus that Lady Moon dared to linger behind, partaking in this tumultuous clash. Without it, having only agreed to provide cover and hindrance to those from the Bliss Society, she would have already sought refuge elsewhere.

In eerie silence, the resurrected phantoms disintegrated beneath the scorching sunlight. Lady Moon seized the opportune mont to summon Paramita, which had not yet fallen into complete disarray, rging with it and vanishing from sight.

…

On Avenue du Marché, inside the khaki-colored four-story building that housed the parliant mber's office.

Imre, the mixed-blood individual, refrained from imdiately questioning Jenna, an assassin. Instead, he directed two agents from Bureau 7 to tend to Jenna's wound, staunching the profuse bleeding and applying bandages. He conveyed the impression that allowing the culprit to succumb to her injuries would hinder their ability to gather crucial clues. Valentine, Antoine, and the other agents observed and interrogated the remaining participants of the banquet, including Cassandra and Rh?ne, who belonged to Greg Artois's team.

Rumble!

Once again, the ground beneath their feet trembled. Those near the windows caught glimpses of Rue Anarchie, Rue du Rossignol, and Rue des Blouses Blanches, intermittently flickering with light. Approaching them were clergyn garbed in white robes embellished with golden threads, wielding various contraptions.

This developnt disrupted the interrogation of Imre, Valentine, and the others. After a while, Angoulê de Fran?ois strode into the banquet hall, clad in a coat adorned with golden buttons, accompanied by a grayish-white humanoid chanical creation. Several additional team mbers and a contingent of police officers followed suit.

Upon hearing Imre's report, Angoulê cast a glance at Jenna and instructed Travis Everett, "Bring all the attendees of the banquet to headquarters for separate interrogations.

"Leave the assassin here. We shall handle her questioning. Hmm… also keep the mbers of Monsieur mber of Parliant's team. There are matters we must clarify."

Everett raised no objections. The organization's constables escorted the anxious onlookers away from the khaki-colored building housing the mber of parliant's office.

As the hall emptied, Angoulê turned to the two Bureau 7 agents standing beside Jenna and instructed them, "Escort the assassin to the lounge. We must ensure she does not overhear our conversation and withhold any truths."

With Jenna escorted to the lounge facing the back alley, Angoulê approached Cassandra, Rh?ne, and the others, speaking in a deep voice, "Hi there, there is information we must acquire."

A faint smile adorned his face.

"Indeed, Monsieur mber of Parliant has t his demise. According to the law, his position is imdiately vacated.

"In other words, you are no longer part of Monsieur mber of Parliant's team. The immunity you once enjoyed is no more.

"So, before we engage in our discussion, let us proceed with so notarizations."

Upon hearing Angoulê's words, Cassandra and the others' expressions underwent a marked change.

anwhile, in the lounge, Jenna, who had cald herself after assassinating Hugues Artois, heard a tumultuous commotion emanating from the hall.

One of the ard agents from Bureau 7, tasked with keeping watch, hastened to the door to investigate.

Seizing the opportunity, Jenna's heart skipped a beat as a plan materialized in her mind.

Her countenance transford, and she gazed past her remaining guard with a mix of surprise and fear.

Though extensively trained, the agent possessed an understanding beyond that of ordinary individuals. Today, an abnormal occurrence had unfolded on Rue Anarchie, culminating in the assassination of Monsieur mber of Parliant. Reports indicated a battle involving supernatural forces transpiring within the hall. It was only natural for him to worry about potential repercussions reaching the lounge and an unseen threat lurking behind him.

Subconsciously, he entertained the notion of turning around, but halfway through the motion, caution compelled him to remain vigilant.

Yet, this proved to be the only opening Jenna needed.

Already restrained by handcuffs, she balled her fists and struck the agent's shoulder and neck with force, sending him sprawling to the ground. His revolver slipped from his grasp.

Before the agent near the door could react, Jenna positioned her hands on the windowsill, propelling herself upward. She crashed through the glass and descended into the back alley with the grace of a feather.

Suppressing the pain from her gunshot wound, she sought refuge in the shadows of a nearby corner and swiftly departed the khaki-colored building.

…

Lady Moon weaved through different directions, employing various abilities until she finally erged from Paramita.

At that mont, she found herself in Quartier éraste, northwest of Trier. Before her stood a magnificent building adorned with golden steeples.

Lady Moon cautiously surveyed her surroundings and discreetly let out a sigh of relief.

Had the Tree of Shadow's deeper intrusion into the Fourth Epoch's Trier served the Great Mother's interests, she wouldn't have joined the Bliss Society's mission. She had no desire to reveal herself. It was well-known that those who controlled desires often fell prey to their own desires. The chances of failure were not insignificant.

Without delay, Lady Moon slipped into the beige building from its side entrance.

A few hundred ters away, a golden retriever sat silently beside a woman dressed in green.

They observed Lady Moon's every move and the grand structure with its nurous steeples, their expressions solemn.

It was the Sacred Heart Cloister of the Eternal Blazing Sun Church.

…

In the wilderness where Rue Anarchie, Rue du Rossignol, and the buildings on Rue des Blouses Blanches crumbled, Lumian witnessed the Tree of Shadow on the brink of sinking into the ground. He couldn't help but taunt Termiboros.

"Well, I'm not that unlucky after all. I've actually succeeded."

Hardly had the words left his lips when Franca, who had regained her senses, rushed over and hissed, "Are you trying to play the role of a charred corpse?"

As she spoke, she retrieved the Healing Agent she had obtained from the Poison Spur Mob, intending to offer Lumian half a canister.

Lumian's injuries weren't as severe as they seed. Fatal burns for most Low-Sequence Beyonders would require no more than a month or two for Pyromaniacs to recover from. As for fractures, explosions, and impacts, none of them could claim the life of a Hunter imdiately. Enduring until tomorrow would naturally bring about recovery.

Considering the potential pursuit of official Beyonders after the wilderness completely vanished, Lumian didn't tempt fate and consud half a vial.

Soon, he felt his body rapidly regenerating.

At this mont, the wilderness teetered on the edge of collapse. The streets had returned to their original positions, and many people had already rushed in.

Franca surveyed her surroundings and spoke swiftly, "Can you still move? We must leave this place swiftly."

"Alright." Lumian rose to his feet.

He took a couple of steps to the side, intending to retrieve the charred tree trunk that had been part of the Tree of Shadow before departing.

Just as Lumian grasped the trunk, sothing caught his peripheral vision.

Within the depression left behind by the Tree of Shadow's subrsion, a hazy and translucent creature darted past.

Lumian's pupils dilated, struggling to believe what he had witnessed. He yearned for a clearer view.

It was a diaphanous, indistinct figure resembling a lizard!

It bore an uncanny resemblance to the elf he had encountered in his dream!

It was the very creature that had erged from Aurore's mouth!

-x-X-x-

Lumian had always held the belief that the lizard-like elf he saw was rely a fignt of his dreaming mind. Symbols and taphors held a deeper significance than the tangible reality.

Yet now, before his very eyes, the diaphanous and elusive lizard-like creature revealed itself in all its existence!

It was undeniably real!

Moreover, it had appeared in Paramita, erging from the deep chasm left by the Tree of Shadow—a most peculiar event involving formidable powers!

Could it be that the lizard crawling out of Aurore's mouth was not a fabrication? What did it symbolize, and what were its intentions? Lumian's brow furrowed as he contorted his expression, experiencing a mix of pain, shock, confusion, and withdrawal.

This agitation stirred sothing within Lumian, making him feel that he could regain so of his mories and determine their authenticity. Yet, this ti, the scenes didn't flicker through his mind as they did during psychiatric treatnts or after hearing Mada Pualis's words. The dream still lingered in his mory.

In that mont, Termiboros's resonant voice echoed in Lumian's ears.

"Do you truly believe that I am responsible for all the anomalies and misfortunes surrounding you?

"Do you think you can escape Susanna Mattise, who is nearly a demigod with a backup plan, by relying solely on the efforts of the sealed and a Sequence 7 Beyonder like yourself?

"Do you believe that Susanna Mattise's failure is solely due to her being an evil spirit, extremism, impatience, and lack of preparation before the ritual? Is there no other underlying reason?"

These words overlapped and resounded in Lumian's mind, allowing him to grasp their aning within a short span of ti.

Lumian was taken aback, feeling as if he had been plunged into an icy lake, experiencing the transition from early sumr to winter.

He blurted out, "Then what is it?"

Termiboros remained silent, as if sensing and comprehending sothing.

In an instant, Lumian's joy surged. He felt the heavy burden on his shoulders dissipate significantly.

Does this an that Aurore truly fell under the control of that peculiar lizard-like creature?

Was that why she remained oblivious to any abnormality when awake, seeking assistance from the outside world alongside ?

No, perhaps she sensed that sothing was amiss. The correct interpretation of the letter's order should be: "We are getting weirder. The people around us need help as soon as possible!"

Franca nudged Lumian.

"Why are you lost in thought? Hurry, let us leave this place swiftly. The official Beyonders and clergyn have arrived!"

Lumian shook off his daze and dashed with Franca to the far end of Rue Anarchie, his singed clothes clinging to his body, along with the tree trunk originating from the Tree of Shadow—not Susanna's later creation.

During this process, two revelations suddenly dawned upon him.

As an angel of Inevitability, Termiboros also displayed an astute understanding of various matters. It is inconceivable for Him to remain oblivious to Susanna Mattise's offering Him as a sacrifice to the Mother Tree of Desire with as the primary vessel without unsealing the seal. He is no novice to the mystical world like !

Therefore, He never anticipated the outco of Susanna Mattise breaking the seal from the very beginning. He made those claims purely as a bluff, coercing to seek His aid and agree to certain unequal terms, creating an opportunity for Him to truly escape.

What He didn't foresee was my choice to deceive Susanna Mattise, compelling Him to provide assistance based on the information she provided. No, He must have considered this possibility, but he had nothing to lose by attempting it. What if I had not devised a swift solution at that critical mont?

Dammit, His intentions are far too sinister! I could have fallen victim to His deception with the slightest carelessness!

Likewise, Susanna Mattise is no paragon of honesty.

Since she sought guidance from the Mother Tree of Desire and acknowledged the possibility of an angel being sealed within , why wouldn't she contemplate the potential transmission of power through the seal? Subsequently, she prayed for power capable of withstanding the influence of Termiboros's leaked power, or even surpassing it. I failed to perceive it then and ca dangerously close to corruption despite being distant.

Had I not escaped the Tree of Shadow in the nick of ti, I would have succumbed to corruption.

Why didn't Susanna Mattise seek assistance right from the start? Could it be that corruption poses a threat to her as well?

Indeed, despite unforeseen circumstances during the Cordu ritual, the padre, as the host of the sacrificial ceremony, was shielded by the power of Inevitability. He did not transform into a monstrous entity or rge into the three-headed giant like the others and successfully escaped… Susanna Mattise also planned on relying on the protection of the ritual to resist corruption?

Hence, she bought ti, awaiting the completion of the ritual's preparations!

She did not target and control initially because she knew that pushing too hard would prompt Termiboros to intervene prematurely, introducing too many uncertainties.

Thus, she endeavored to create an illusion for , fostering the belief that resistance and escape were within reach. Only when I broached the subject of the angel did she stall for ti, stringing together a series of seemingly revealing words. She concealed her true trump card, biding her ti for to make the wrong choice with Termiboros's aid and fall into her prearranged trap.

Although she did not anticipate the attack from the Montsouris ghost, had it not been for an external intervention exploiting the crack created by the ghost, I would have remained trapped within the Tree of Shadow's depths. Moreover, she was on the verge of officially activating the ritual and gaining protection.

Dammit! Beautiful Actors truly possess the knack for deceiving others!

As Lumian and Franca sprinted ahead, their surroundings suddenly transford into a surreal spectacle. Vibrant layers of colors intertwined with indescribable, fantastical creatures.

His head spun, and his vision beca hazy.

When his sight cleared, Rue Anarchie was nowhere in sight, and the vibrant palette had vanished.

Instead, he found himself standing on a verdant hillside, facing Madam Magician, adorned in an orange dress.

She's here too… Lumian glanced around but couldn't spot Franca.

As if sensing his unspoken question, Madam Magician smiled and spoke, "The Two of Cups departed with her Major Arcana card to attend to so matters."

"The Two of Cups?" Lumian was perplexed.

"That's Franca. She is one of us. Her code na is Two of Cups, just as you are the Seven of Wands," Madam Magician casually explained. "You have officially joined our ranks. Speak to the Two of Cups later and have her introduce our organization. I won't say much."

Not only is Franca a mber of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society, but she is also part of the secret organization utilizing tarot card codenas? Lumian felt a mix of surprise and elation.

This ant that he and Franca were true comrades.

Madam Magician scrutinized Lumian's charred countenance and fragnted attire. From sowhere, she produced a simple brown suit tailored for a man and tossed it to him.

"Change into this later. While it's not particularly scandalous for Trieriens to roam the streets nude, one mustn't entirely succumb to the surroundings. You must maintain your true self. Only then can you resist the potion's corruption and minimize the risk of losing control."

Lumian caught the clothes, and Madam Magician pondered for a mont before speaking, "Tell in detail what has transpired recently. Although I knew you would encounter followers of the evil gods and beco entangled with them, I did not anticipate you getting embroiled in such weighty matters directly."

Lumian recounted the events, starting from his arrival in Trier to his use of the Summoning Dance to lure Susanna Mattise. He focused on the sacrificial ritual, Termiboros's involvent, and the enigmatic lizard-like creature.

As Madam Magician listened, her expression grew solemn. Once Lumian finished speaking, she nodded slightly and said, "This is highly abnormal. Both Termiboros and that elf are far from ordinary."

She gazed at Lumian, speaking in a direct manner, "It wasn't Termiboros who aided you in enhancing Fallen rcury's abilities within the Tree of Shadow and allowed the Montsouris ghost to arrive early."

"Not Him?" Lumian had speculated the issues that Madam Magician might uncover, but he never expected her to address this matter so clearly.

If not Termiboros, then who else could it be?

Moreover, the subsequent changes only occurred after the compromise of the Inevitable angel.

"I don't have the answers either." Madam Magician shook her head slowly. "What I can affirm is that the seal of that great existence wouldn't allow Termiboros to unleash such power. If that were possible, He would have long manipulated you to assist Him in breaking the seal."

Observing Lumian's perplexed expression, Madam Magician continued, "All Termiboros can do is influence your judgnt and choices. After all, He is sealed within you, and your fates are intertwined to a certain extent.

"To put it simply, concerning Charlie's situation, Termiboros couldn't expedite Susanna Mattise's recovery. He couldn't dictate when or how she planned to find Charlie. He could rely utilize this situation to instill in you the intention of employing the Luck Transference Spell to alter Charlie's fate and augnt the corresponding likelihood.

"From this standpoint, do you believe He possesses the capability to enhance Fallen rcury's abilities and allow the tily arrival of the Montsouris ghost?

"However, it is plausible for Him to aid you in shouldering the burden of the past scenes within the Tree of Shadow.

"Hence, I have consistently advised you to seek my counsel beforehand on critical and perilous matters rather than making decisions on your own."

Lumian's heart surged like a tumultuous ocean.

He recollected the incident where Rentas took Charlie underground and realized that Madam Magician's words held truth.

Charlie's grueso plight and destiny stemd from two factors. Firstly, the threat posed by the Bliss Society through Rentas, and secondly, Lumian's own choice at the crossroads of fate. Thus, once Rentas was slain by their hands, Charlie's fortune rely improved marginally. Only when Lumian made the correct decision did everything revert to normalcy. There were no indications of Termiboros's influence.

If He could sway Charlie's path in the sa manner He manipulated the Montsouris ghost, Lumian would have fallen victim long ago.

Moreover, why would Susanna Mattise entertain the idea of capturing alive, knowing that I can receive indirect assistance from an angel after she departed from the Tree of Shadow and was in a weakened state, despite being aware of Termiboros's limited influences?

Unless Susanna Mattise, who possesses a trace of godhood due to the Tree of Shadow, had already deduced that Termiboros was impotent in exerting influence and remained tightly sealed following the internal conflict within the Tree of Shadow. There must be another origin to this quandary! And that origin did not depart alongside her! Dammit! I had presud that even if my judgnt faltered or the fate exchange prolonged, Termiboros would never allow Susanna Mattise to capture alive, as it would render Him a sacrificial pawn. Little did I know, He lacked the capability entirely… Lumian postulated, obtaining a more rational explanation for the recent turn of events.

"What exactly happened?" he inquired, a tinge of anguish and anger coloring his tone.

Madam Magician pondered for a few seconds before responding, "Taking into account those misfortunes, I suspect that Termiboros has allies in the outside world. In other words, there may be a Beyonder lurking around you who possesses the ability to influence fate. He secretly accomplished tasks in accordance with the ideas transmitted by Termiboros, but he did so with subtlety to avoid exposure."

A word suddenly flashed across Lumian's mind: Sufferer!

In his dream, after entering the underground altar with Ryan's team, they had beco tainted by the aura of a Sufferer!

As for the owl and the other "him" within the Warlock's tomb, prior to their unveiling, they always gave him the impression that they were the root of the problem and the mastermind behind it all.

Could these be symbolic as well?

-x-X-x-

Lumian had always believed that his dream self represented his darker side, a twisted persona born from the corruption of Inevitability.

But now, it seed there was more to it.

There was no problem with his understanding of his own essence, but was he, along with the owl hidden in the Warlock's tomb, also serving as a symbol?

A representation of the puppet master behind the scenes, the true orchestrator of the lizard-like creature and the grand ritual in Cordu?

And now, he was lurking in the shadows, attempting to collaborate with Termiboros in order to break free from the seal.

However, Termiboros's attitude towards the lizard-like creature seed to suggest otherwise…

Lumian fell silent for a few seconds before sharing his speculations in detail with Madam Magician.

The Magician listened attentively, pondering for a mont before speaking.

"I initially believed that by undergoing progressive psychiatric treatnt and recalling forgotten events one by one, the truth of Cordu Village would beco clear to you. It wouldn't be any different from what I already know."

"But hearing what you've just said, I suspect that so of the symbols and taphors in your dreams hold deeper, hidden secrets."

"But regardless, those symbols and taphors are projections from my actual experiences. It's impossible that I still can't decipher them after regaining my mories, right?" Lumian objected.

Madam Magician smiled and replied, "That might not be the case."

Seeing Lumian's confusion, she explained simply, "On the one hand, you may not have directly experienced those events, but your spirit and subconscious sensed danger and abnormalities, projecting them into your dreams with symbolic elents.

"On the other hand, Termiboros is sealed within you. Your fate is intertwined with His. Your subconscious might have detected sothing unusual through this connection."

Lumian grasped Madam Magician's aning to so extent and pondered for a mont.

"After completing the full psychiatric treatnt, can Madam Susie directly awaken my subconscious and inquire about the aning of the different symbols?"

"It's extrely risky. When the ti cos, we'll have to rely on the joint opinion of the two Psychiatrists to decide if it's worth attempting," Madam Magician replied thoughtfully. "But that's a long way off. Before then, I can assist you in finding Beyonders skilled in decrypting symbolism to see if we can accurately interpret it without relying solely on your subconscious. Would you like that?"

"Alright," Lumian agreed eagerly.

Then, he asked with concern, "What about the potential Termiboros ally lurking nearby? Are we not going to do anything about them?"

Madam Magician remained calm as she answered, "Now that we have sensed this possibility, I don't think they will risk staying close to you. Of course, I will continue to keep watch."

She then inquired, "Do you plan to continue the mission assigned to you by the Aurora Order? Many people probably witnessed you charging toward the Tree of Shadow. This will raise Gardner Martin's suspicions.

"If you don't want to take the risk, inform Mr. K about it. He will likely be delighted that you've slain a Fallen Tree Spirit and thwarted the Bliss Society's plan. He can assign you a new mission.

"If you wish to proceed, I can arrange for soone to blur the mories of those who saw you. In any case, it's normal for your exact appearance and physical characteristics not to be clearly discerned in that environnt."

Without hesitation, Lumian declared, "I wish to proceed."

Gardner Martin, a Sequence 6 or Sequence 5 of the Hunter pathway, commanded a formidable group of Hunters. If Lumian continued to interact with him and joined the Iron and Blood Cross Order, there was a high chance of acquiring the potion formulas and main ingredients after Pyromaniac.

Through these experiences, Lumian had gained a profound understanding of the disparities between Sequences, the terror of powerful individuals, and his own limitations. He felt an urgent need to enhance his strength. It was a sharp contrast to his initial nonchalance upon arriving in Trier, where he sought hope amidst confusion.

Only by becoming strong enough could he withstand misfortune and unveil the truth behind the catastrophe in the perilous world of mysticism. Only then could he discern whether various propositions using Resurrection as bait concealed sinister intentions!

Madam Magician nodded slightly, granting Lumian's request.

Prompted by their previous conversation, Lumian inquired with curiosity, "Has the Tree of Shadow been dealt with?"

"How could that be?" Madam Magician scoffed. "Even if both Churches requested divine intervention, the Tree of Shadow would remain unresolved. Heh heh, it's not impossible, but the price is exorbitant, deterring anyone from paying it."

"What sort of price?" Lumian pressed further.

As if taking a leisurely stroll, Madam Magician moved two steps to the side of the hill.

"After being nourished and exerting influence for over a thousand years, the Tree of Shadow has beco one with Trier. It's akin to its shadow, its dark aspect. Unless we obliterate the entire city and exterminate every inhabitant, not even a true deity could fully eradicate it.

"Of course, we could relocate Trier elsewhere and resettle its entire population. Then, after five to six years, when the Tree of Shadow has weakened due to the loss of nourishnt, we could uproot it. However, by doing so, the other perils lurking beneath Trier would beco uncontrollable."

There are other dangers? Lumian furrowed his brow.

Isn't the underground of Trier too daunting?

Perplexed, he asked, "Why wasn't the Tree of Shadow destroyed when it was first planted?"

Madam Magician chuckled.

"Well, wasn't it due to the urgency of constructing the city and countering certain underground threats? They failed to notice soone secretly planting the Tree of Shadow."

She didn't divulge details about the dangers, implying that Lumian didn't need to know them at present.

Lumian keenly sensed this and sealed his lips.

Madam Magician looked at him and let out a self-deprecating laugh.

"Are you unhappy that I sent you directly to Trier and involved you in a series of perilous affairs without providing corresponding assistance?"

"No," Lumian replied, puzzled by Madam Magician's question.

From his perspective, accepting missions, completing tasks, and reaping rewards seed fair enough. And throughout this process, Madam Magician would offer guidance through letters.

Apart from the past few years of adoption, Lumian had long grown accustod to not relying entirely on others and making full use of the various resources at his disposal to achieve his goals.

Madam Magician chuckled.

"Didn't you see the Major Arcana card summoned by the Two of Cups? It happened because she was coincidentally in Trier. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been so effortless and effective."

She paused for a mont before continuing, "If I were to treat you as an extension of my eyes and hands, a loyal subordinate devoid of your own will, I could allow you to recite my na and provide ample assistance to ensure your safety most of the ti. However, you chose the Hunter pathway. It's a path that demands combat and a strong sense of self.

"A flower nurtured in a greenhouse cannot beco a qualified Hunter. It's imnsely challenging for a Hunter, who always fights within their comfort zones with a patron, to attain godhood and beco a saint. In due ti, they will have to invest more ti and pay a higher price to compensate for their present deficiencies.

"What kind of person do you aspire to be?"

Lumian fell silent for a mont before responding, "I want to be the one who makes those scoundrels tremble."

His answer was unequivocal.

Madam Magician nodded in satisfaction.

"Of course, that doesn't an I won't care about you. I will still reply to your letters, provide my opinions, and even extend assistance upon request. However, I don't want you to feel perpetually shielded."

Lumian nodded, signifying his understanding.

He recalled Susanna Mattise's swift recitation of certain words to seek high-level assistance. Combining that with the keywords ntioned by Madam Magician, he spoke thoughtfully,

"Can reciting the honorific na of a specific entity draw their attention and receive corresponding aid through prayer?"

"Yes," The Magician nodded subtly. "However, it requires the sufficient goodwill of the other party. Once you reach a certain stage, I will also disclose my na to you. Yes, you are aware of Mr. Fool's honorific na, but without a ritual, simply reciting it will be difficult to elicit an effective response. It may even have adverse consequences. This is because Mr. Fool is contending with an ancient deity. The outco will determine the fate of us all and whether this world can survive the apocalypse."

Mr. Fool? The abbreviation for that mighty existence is The Fool? Truly befitting of a secret organization that employs tarot cards as their codenas… When Lumian heard of The Fool, he instinctively connected it to the tarot cards he encountered daily, rather than associating it with the honorific na. It seed more like a description.

Madam Magician changed the subject and glanced at the tree trunk in Lumian's hand.

"This is a valuable item. Attacks without godhood cannot harm it, and upon striking a target, it may trigger a particular desire.

"If you acquire Beyonder characteristics that align with it, you can find a way to employ a saint-level Artisan to combine them, turning it into a mystical item.

"You shouldn't carry it with you at all tis, though. Otherwise, your desires will gradually spiral out of control. It poses great danger for Beyonders who consu potions."

Just as she finished speaking, Madam Magician turned her head slightly, as if listening to sothing. Then, she addressed Lumian, "That will be all for today."

In the blink of an eye, Lumian's vision filled with a blend of vibrant colors and ethereal, indescribable creatures.

In the next mont, Rue Anarchie appeared before him, riddled with cracks.

Madam Magician had vanished,

leaving Lumian bewildered as he hastily donned the clothes and pants he held in his hands.

His attention was then drawn to Franca, standing not far away.

Simultaneously, the two of them exchanged smiles.

Before they could convey their shared sense of being part of the sa secret organization, Jenna erged from the alley shadows, dressed in a grayish-blue gown.

Lumian and Franca instinctively went on guard.

Jenna winced, gripping her wounded ribs, yet expressed joy, "Dammit! You guys are alright!"

She appears genuine… Franca mumbled and approached her, concern etched on her face. "What happened to you? Why are you injured?"

Jenna cast nervous glances around and lowered her voice.

"I assassinated Hugues Artois and ended up getting shot."

"Dammit! You succeeded? And you managed to escape?" Franca exclaid, taken aback.

Even she didn't believe she could pull off such a feat.

What was this called? This was the embodint of a true assassin!

Lumian noticed a few passersby on Rue Anarchie, so he interrupted Jenna.

"We can discuss it once we reach Auberge du Coq Doré. I'll extract the bullet and treat your wounds."

"I still have half a vial of Healing Agent," Franca chid in happily.

She supported Jenna and, following the shadows along the roadside, they made their way back to Auberge du Coq Doré.

As they neared their destination, they encountered Anthony Reid, the information broker.

Lumian chuckled derisively.

"I thought you'd have escaped."

"I still have so unfinished business in the market district," Anthony Reid replied vaguely.

The four of them took a few more steps and laid their eyes upon the beige five-story building.

Auberge du Coq Doré leaned a little more than before. Cracks marred its walls, intertwined with withering vines and branches.

As the remaining tenants had yet to return, it exuded an indescribable dilapidation and silence.

…

It had been so ti since the catastrophe.

Amidst the crowd, a young man dressed plainly disembarked from the steam locomotive, carrying an old suitcase. He left the platform behind and strolled all the way to Rue Anarchie.

There, he laid eyes upon the beige five-story building, its surface adorned with streaks of vibrant red paint.

"Auberge du Coq Doré," he murmured, reciting the na of the establishnt. He reached into his pocket, feeling the banknotes and coins, realizing it was likely within his ans.

To his surprise, Auberge du Coq Doré was much cleaner than he had envisioned. While certain areas were plastered with outdated newspapers and cheap pink paper, there were no signs of the ubiquitous bedbugs, repugnant phlegm, or various types of rubbish.

After renting Room 302 for 15 verl d'or, the young man climbed the stairs with his suitcase, feeling content.

It's even more affordable than I thought. A clean motel like this costs only 15 verl d'or per month…

Once he had stowed away his suitcase in the cramped room, he decided to treat himself to a drink using the money he had saved.

In the Capital of Joy, one had to play the part!

He made his way to the underground bar, imdiately engulfed by the lively clamor as he stepped inside.

A man in a shirt and bow tie, beer in hand, flailed his short arms, energetically expounding to the people around him. Others reveled, singing and dancing, refusing to be subdued.

At the bar counter, a few patrons sat with an intriguing contraption.

Curiosity piqued, the young man approached, examining the rubber hose and glass canister of the device. He asked with fascination, "What is this?"

A handso custor with blond hair streaked with black turned his body and responded with a bright smile,

"It's called the Idiot Instrunt that tests an individual's intelligence. Or you could say that it asures a person's foolishness."

(End of Volu Two—Lightseeker)