Chapter 92 - 92 Stripping Fate

92 Stripping Fate

Lumian couldn’t grasp the meaning of the illusory river he saw or sensed. All he could surmise was that it symbolized fate. Guided by Fallen Mercury’s instincts, he lifted the blade’s tip and aimed it at a mercury symbol within the river.

As soon as he made contact with the mercury river, a series of scenes flashed through Lumian’s mind: Noodle Man performing an enigmatic sacrificial dance; Noodle Man cowering before the black thorn symbol and prostrating itself; Noodle Man gathering the scattered flesh and blood throughout the dream ruins to satiate its hunger; Noodle Man attempting to approach the ‘city wall’ circle, but retreating each time as if afraid of something; Noodle Man’s head severed by an axe…

Is this its entire existence since the loop began? Lumian realized this as he tried to stab the tip of Fallen Mercury at the mercury symbol representing Noodle Man’s demise—the end of the illusory river.

It was too immense and heavy for him to succeed.

At that moment, the mercury symbol started to dissipate, and the illusory river gradually faded. The images in Lumian’s mind grew hazy.

There’s a time limit? Lumian didn’t dare to dawdle. Adhering to the principle of proximity, he aimed the dark pewter dirk at Noodle Man’s fate of succumbing to the black thorn symbol.

The mercury symbol, seemingly formed by the river’s entanglement, was pried open, condensing into a droplet that seeped into the blade of Fallen Mercury.

In the next instant, the illusory river vanished entirely, preventing Lumian from witnessing Noodle Man’s fate again.

He glanced down at Fallen Mercury and noticed the heretic symbols on the pewter-black blade undulating gently like water, as though infused with some vital force.

They had been mesmerizing from the start, but now they appeared even more sinister.

“Success…” Lumian whispered to himself in relief.

Fallen Mercury was now complete.

In the future, as long as he could wound the flaming monster with this heretic dirk in battle, he could swap the monster’s fate of cowering before the black thorn symbol with the former.

Lumian wrapped the blade of Fallen Mercury in black cloth and sheathed it in his belt. He dealt with Noodle Man’s corpse briefly, moving it into a half-collapsed building. He destroyed the building’s last support, allowing rubble and wood to fall, burying everything inside.

After this, Lumian circled back to where the flaming monster had appeared.

This time, he didn’t approach for observation. Instead, he searched for footprints and other traces, taking time to identify which ones the target left while deliberately circling around.

After nearly two hours, Lumian gradually deciphered the flaming monster’s habits and patterns. A mental hunting map emerged.

He spent some time surveying the predetermined battlefields, seeking natural traps to exploit.

Eventually, Lumian rubbed his forehead and decided to delve deeper into the ruins while he still had energy, gathering information for future explorations.

He remained vigilant and performed the sacrificial dance again, partially triggering the black thorn symbol.

With the ‘amulet’ in hand, Lumian quickly followed the same path as before.

He encountered monsters along the way, but they either fled before attacking or vanished from sight at a distance. The deeper he went, the more similar situations occurred.

Finally, when the burning sensation in his chest from the second sacrificial dance subsided, Lumian spotted the ‘city wall’ composed of twisted houses once more.

He rested a while, waiting for his spirituality to recover before performing the sacrificial dance again.

After the dance, sometimes forceful, sometimes graceful, Lumian headed in the direction where he found Fallen Mercury, the black thorn symbol activated.

After passing through the room where the flames had been extinguished, he slowed his pace, wary of a sudden assault.

After walking a while, Lumian noticed the light ahead had dimmed considerably. It was as if a massive creature high in the sky blocked the light, or the sun was obscured by something.

Lumian instinctively looked up, but saw only thick fog.

Unable to determine the cause, he could only draw Fallen Mercury and cautiously proceed.

In a moment, it felt as if he had transitioned from day to night.

Of course, this was an exaggeration. Lumian thought it more accurate to liken the foggy weather to a place shrouded in dark clouds.

Almost simultaneously, he yawned involuntarily, his exhaustion intensifying.

No, I can’t sleep… Lumian forced himself to keep his eyes open as he retreated from the shadowy base of the mountain.

His mental state improved significantly. Although still tired, he could endure it.

You fall asleep the moment you enter. The deeper you go, the sleepier you become? Lumian mused silently. He turned and walked in another direction.

After another sacrificial dance, he arrived at an unfamiliar area.

To his right were ‘walls’ stacked with doors and windows. To his left lay a wasteland connected to the circle of building ruins, and ahead stood brown trees.

In the desolate ruins, the trees seemed incredibly resilient. They intertwined and embraced each other, forming a wooden wall five to six meters tall.

This wooden wall had numerous green leaves and branches, a stark contrast to the deathly silence and desolation surrounding it.

If it hadn’t blocked the path to the back of the city wall, Lumian might have praised its tenacious vitality. But now, he could only express his dissatisfaction with the crude gesture of raising two middle fingers.

He could have chosen to take a detour and enter from the other side of the dream ruins, but he wasn’t familiar with that area. His spirituality was nearly depleted, so there was no need to take the risk.

Lumian yawned unabashedly, his chest still burning as he retraced his steps.

……

As Lumian awoke, the first light of dawn had already crept through the thick curtains, casting an outline of the desk, chair, wardrobe, and other furnishings within the room.

Still early, he thought, glancing over at Aurore beside him.

Aurore’s blonde hair lay strewn across the white pillow, her eyes closed in peaceful slumber.

Her right hand gripped the edge of the blanket, occasionally attempting to turn over but stopping instinctively. Her brow furrowed before gradually smoothing out.

Lumian had a good idea why his sister reacted this way.

She had hidden numerous bottles within her nightgown as a precaution. Sleeping on her side or stomach would undoubtedly cause her harm.

How exhausting, Lumian sighed inwardly, his expression tender and his heart at ease.

After a moment, he carefully slid out of bed and left the bedroom.

He moved toward a side balcony that led to the rooftop. Facing the distant crimson sky, he stretched his body.

Within a minute, Valentine emerged from his room and stood in the corridor.

“Are you also greeting the sun?” he asked, his usual cold demeanor replaced with warmth and approval.

...

Can I say no? Lumian smiled. “That’s right.”

Satisfied, Valentine stepped onto the balcony and stood tall, facing the rising sun.

He spread his arms wide, lifted his face toward the sky, and whispered, “Praise the Sun!”

With no other choice, Lumian mimicked the gesture. “Praise the Sun!”

Valentine lowered his arms and crossed them over his chest. After a moment of silent prayer, he opened his eyes and said to Lumian, “If the loop is successfully resolved, I’ll introduce you to the bishop of Dariège. Or would you prefer Bigorre?”

“I prefer Trier,” Lumian answered, smiling. “But where I go isn’t up to me. It’s up to my sister.”

Valentine nodded and dropped the subject. He turned back toward the corridor and began patrolling.

Nothing happened until eight o’clock. The pair then went downstairs and prepared breakfast together.

Soon after, Ryan joined them to help. Leah woke up just before nine, leaving Aurore still asleep.

Ryan bit into his toast and asked Lumian, “Do you have any plans for today?”

Lumian hesitated before responding, “We should leave someone at home. Aurore can’t be left to face a potential attack alone. The remaining two will accompany me to stock up on food and fetch some water. We must hold out until the twelfth night.”

...

Cordu lacked a proper water supply. Aurore had installed a water tank on the roof during her renovations. As long as it was regularly filled and disinfected, it was as good as having running water.

“Yes, we need to do all this before Lent,” Ryan agreed.

Lumian smiled brightly. “By the way, we should visit Madame Pualis and ask if she can help us investigate the dead Warlock and the owl in the tomb.”

As expected, Valentine frowned, and Ryan’s smile stiffened.

Leah sipped her water and offered a smile. “I’ll stay with Aurore.”

“No problem,” Lumian agreed on behalf of Ryan and Valentine.

With no other choice, the two men acquiesced to visit the administrator’s residence that morning.

Following breakfast, the trio exited the semi-subterranean two-story building and made their way toward Ol’ Tavern.

They passed Shepherd Pierre Berry’s home along the way.

Lumian’s heart raced as he suggested to Ryan and Valentine, “Let’s check on the three sheep.”

He recalled the bleating he had heard the night before.

Understanding his meaning, Ryan and Valentine offered no objection.

They circled around to the rear of the Berrys’ home, only to find an empty sheep pen.

The three sheep were gone.