Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability

Surveying the silent ruins around him, he found nothing out of the ordinary. Turning his attention back to Franca, he inquired, “Care to explain?”

Franca contemplated for a moment before responding, “The Son of Heaven is roughly equivalent to an Emperor. As for Daoist, eh—think of it as a mighty Beyonder.”

“In essence, this Emperor, bearing the title ‘Blood,’ wrought havoc in hell, sowing chaos. As for the Daoist known as ‘Underworld,’ a powerful Beyonder, they made the ultimate sacrifice, entering a certain river to seal away this Emperor.”

The Emperor with the title of Blood… Lumian was alarmed.

“The Blood Emperor?”

Memories from the Samaritan Women’s Spring came flooding back.

In those vivid recollections, the Blood Emperor’s elusive figure burned with concealed flames, his battered armor soaked in blood. The dark waters receded within the fountain only to surge forth again, merging with the ethereal mist, transforming into a pale spring. Alista Tudor’s apparition was tugged back into the fountain’s depths by an inexplicable force. It appeared as though a fierce battle had transpired between the two entities…

With Franca’s explanation, Lumian’s mind began to piece together a new interpretation of the Armored Shadow’s cryptic words and his encounter.

He said thoughtfully to Franca, “I suspect the ‘Blood Son of Heaven’ you mention is none other than the apparition of the ‘Blood Emperor’ Alista Tudor.”

“But how did the Blood Emperor’s apparition find its way to my home?” Franca didn’t immediately connect it to Alista Tudor, but Lumian’s deductions were beginning to make sense.

The special fish-scale armor and the Spell of Harrumph, which originated from myths and legends, made her suspect that the Armored Shadow came from back home. And now, the language basically matched, making her even more certain.

Lumian nodded, continuing, “I’ll have to start with the events at the Samaritan Women’s Spring, where Madame Hela and I fetched the water…”

“You went with Madame Hela?” Franca murmured, her curiosity piqued but allowing Lumian to proceed.

Lumian went on to recount the events at the Samaritan Women’s Spring in detail, ensuring Franca remained focused on his narrative. He then presented his theory.

“I suspect that during the War of the Four Emperors, the Blood Emperor did not fully perish. For some extraordinary reason, He preserved a fragment of His lingering soul. During the godly war, a passage was opened between our world and your homeland, allowing a mysterious river from your world to infiltrate ours. Mr. Fool sealed it, creating the Samaritan Women’s Spring.

“This river appears closely tied to the realms of death and the Underworld. The Blood Emperor’s apparition, trapped in a state of death, traverses between your world, the Samaritan Women’s Spring, and even the Fourth Epoch Trier.

“The Blood Emperor possesses an innate desire for resurrection, and the first step to achieving that is to escape the river’s confinement. In this process, He brought chaos to the Underworld of your homeland. The powerful Beyonder from the domains of Death and the Underworld had no choice but to make the ultimate sacrifice, immersing themselves in the mysterious river to harness its power fully and seal away the Blood Emperor’s apparition.”

Franca alternated between confusion and clarity. When Lumian finished sharing his theory, she responded with a mixture of surprise and suspicion, saying, “Your guess seems quite realistic and logical…”

His explanation shed light on the words of the Armored Shadow and the peculiar occurrences at the Samaritan Women’s Spring.

Franca fell into a brief silence, then continued, “Back in my homeland, that elusive and mysterious river is known as the Yellow Springs.”

“However, before I transmigrated, the Yellow Springs and the netherworld were nothing more than legends, unverifiable myths. There were no tales of the Blood Son of Heaven or the Underworld Daoist…

“Could it be that I was just an ordinary person who never had the opportunity to encounter such things?”

Lumian chuckled.

“Before I discovered Aurore was a Warlock, concepts like superpowers, demons, and ghosts were nonexistent.”

Franca acknowledged his words, her expression gradually shifting towards excitement.

“Now that there’s a passageway connecting our worlds, returning home is no longer an unattainable dream!”

Lumian, in a friendly tone, warned, “Madame Hela mentioned that the pale-white spring water is deadly to anyone who touches it.”

Franca’s expression froze for a moment, then she replied, “That may be true for us now. But with the power of godhood and ascending to sainthood, we might be able to handle it.”

Lumian reminded her again, “There are the figures of an angel and a true god imprisoned in the spring.”

“…” Franca rolled her eyes at Lumian. “Aren’t you a buzzkill! Compared to before, when we had no answers, no direction, and no hope, now there’s a glimmer of hope. We know where to focus our efforts. One of the reasons Madame Hela went to retrieve the Samaritan Women’s Spring might have been to confirm if it’s connected to the Yellow Springs. She’s truly exceptional at finding leads!”

Lumian simply shrugged, opting not to dampen Franca’s newfound optimism and enthusiasm.

Franca’s excitement was palpable as she paced back and forth before suddenly posing a question.

“Were you asking where the Armored Shadow came from? Why did it mention the Blood Emperor and Daoist Underworld?”

That wasn’t an answer!

Could there be some hidden secret?

Lumian thought for a moment and said, “It’s a shadow born after death, and some of its abilities clearly belong to the Death domain. It also has a strong urge to break free from its restraints and escape imprisonment… Given these factors, I believe it’s a ghost-like entity sealed by Daoist Underworld. Asking about its origins would inevitably lead to uncovering the current state of the Daoist Underworld, which is why I received that answer.”

Franca was enlightened.

“That makes sense!

“Underworld Daoist destroyed its golden body and sealed it. Could that be why it’s collecting gold to reconstruct its golden body and break free from its imprisonment?”

Observing Lumian’s puzzled expression, Franca clarified the concept of a golden body and her interpretation.

“Is that so?” Lumian nodded slowly. “It seems like we might be able to continue trading gold with the Armored Shadow in the future, but fully restoring it to its original state should be avoided. This entity is extremely dangerous and holds a deep malice. I wonder what it will do once it escapes its seal.”

Franca agreed wholeheartedly. “At the very least, we need to advance to Sequence 4 before considering this matter.”

Lumian snickered. “Didn’t you mention that achieving godhood and becoming a saint is an arduous endeavor? Why the newfound confidence?”

Franca glared at Lumian. “Isn’t it because I have a goal now? Can’t I indulge in a little daydreaming with all the motivation I have? Seriously, did we switch roles?”

She recalled that not long ago, she had remarked that Lumian made the path to godhood and switching pathways sound too simplistic.

Lumian chuckled and said, “It’s good to have a goal and motivation. Yes, the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society’s gathering is coming up next week. Should I inform the others about the Armored Shadow, the Blood Emperor, Underworld Daoist, and the Yellow Springs?”

Franca pondered for a moment and said, “In the past, I would have shared this information, but now I can’t do so until I solve the issue with April Fool’s Day. However, we can inquire about the illusory river related to death and see if anyone has relevant information.”

Lumian thought for a moment and said, “I’ll do the asking.”

Franca was momentarily surprised but quickly understood Lumian’s reasoning.

Lumian had gone to the Samaritan Women’s Spring with Madame Hela. It made more sense for her companion, who was posing as Muggle, to inquire about the situation at the Samaritan Women’s Spring. There was a logical rationale behind it.

From Hela’s perspective, Lumian and Hidden Blade were strangers who didn’t know each other. If Franca were to casually mention the River of Death, it would undoubtedly raise suspicion.

…

On Monday, Franca arrived at Trocadéro’s Red House Café once again.

This time, she had taken care to dress more in line with her usual attire, wearing a shirt, pants, and boots, even though she still maintained her black-haired, brown-eyed form.

Her intention was to create the illusion that she was a man who had transformed into a Demoness, which she hoped would deter any sudden attacks from the Demoness she was waiting for.

However, the long-haired orange-red Demoness did not appear throughout the morning. Instead, Franca found herself engaged in conversations with two female patrons who took the opportunity to strike up a chat with her.

Franca calmly sipped her coffee, seemingly unfazed by the interactions.

She couldn’t help but notice that Lumian appeared unusually calm and encouraged her to take her time. Franca understood the urgency of eliminating the core members of the Bliss Society, particularly those close to Susanna Mattise. Failing to do so would mean Lumian would forever be overshadowed by the Rose School of Thought.

…

Lumian had already reported to Madam Magician about the Bliss Society, the Rose School of Thought, and the activities at the Red House Café. The response he received was concise: “Do not leave Trier for the time being, and there should be no major issues.”

Lumian ignited the letter and departed Rue du Rossignol, strolling towards Avenue du Marché.

As he approached Salle de Bal Brise, he spotted a familiar figure—a man with dark-brown eyes, a prominent nose bridge, and a flaxen-colored beard that covered his chin. This man wore a robe reminiscent of an ancient Warlock’s attire. It was Secrets Suppliant Osta Trul, the same person who had introduced Lumian to Mr. K’s mysticism gathering.

“My cabbage,” Lumian inquired with a smile. “What brings you here?”

Osta Trul responded with a magnetic voice, “I’ve come to find Baron Brignais to settle my debt.”

“You’ve got the money?” Lumian raised his eyebrows.

Osta Trul smiled and replied, “Yes, I’ve come to realize that some honorific names derived from the potion can be used for prayers. There’s no danger involved. This discovery has been quite helpful to me.”

Lumian was slightly taken aback by this revelation. With a dark look, he tapped his chest four times—up, down, left, and right.

Osta Trul mirrored his actions with an even warmer smile.

Lumian didn’t continue the small talk. He simply waved his hand and walked past Osta Trul.

Quietly, he approached the white spherical statue constructed from skulls outside Salle de Bal Brise, releasing a soft sigh.

At 9 p.m., Lumian returned to Room 207 at Auberge du Coq Doré. He finally received a letter from a pure silver skull with pale-white flames burning in its eye sockets.

The letter was from Hela, and its content was brief.

“There will be a gathering in one hour.

“If you wish to participate, silently recite the following incantation within five minutes of 10 p.m.”