Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability
Chapter Summary
Lugano’s eyes remained open as he swung open the door to the suite, his gaze vacant. Beside him stood Enio, the brown-haired, brown-eyed patient who had intruded upon Lugano that night, his pale face devoid of life. He calmly addressed the old man in the loose black robe, “Don’t you know he’s my servant?” The elder’s eyes narrowed as he readied the scalpel to descend towards Lugano’s neck.
Lugano’s eyes remained open as he swung open the door to the suite, his gaze vacant. He stepped into the deserted corridor, where only the sound of crashing waves reverberated.
In this moment, everyone, save for the sailor on night duty, succumbed to slumber.
Lugano moved forward, the kerosene wall lamps around him casting an ethereal glow that mingled with the encroaching darkness.
He reached the end of the floor and halted in front of a vivid vermilion wooden door.
Creak. The door groaned open, and the darkness within seemed to swallow every trace of light.
Lugano traversed the obscurity with a blank expression, entering the room. Behind him, the vermilion door was pulled shut by an imperceptible force.
It was a suite. The living and dining areas lay shrouded in darkness, devoid of any candlelit glow. The faint crimson moonlight filtered through the curtains, offering minimal visibility.
At the dining table stood two shadowy figures. One of them appeared aged, with mostly gray hair and dark, deep blue eyes that seemed to absorb the night.
Despite the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the elder’s skin remained well-maintained, adorned in a loose, dark-black robe.
Beside him stood Enio, the brown-haired, brown-eyed patient who had intruded upon Lugano that night, his pale face devoid of life. His vacant gaze fixated on the unadorned table.
Lugano, as if sleepwalking, stood next to Enio, unusually quiet.
The elder in the loose black robe turned his head, fixing his gaze on Enio.
The patient ambled towards the dining table, climbed on it, and lay completely motionless.
The blond elder brandished a sharp scalpel, unfastening Enio’s tweed coat, cashmere sweater, and cotton shirt. He pressed the razor-sharp blade against Enio’s chest, producing a ripping sound as he sliced through layers of flesh, creating a long wound.
As Enio’s chest and abdominal cavity lay exposed to the crimson moonlight, a void greeted the eye.
No stomach, no lungs, no small or large intestines, liver, or kidneys. Only a weakly beating bright red heart, accompanied by a few blood vessels extending from it.
With a swift motion, the old man in the dark-black robe manipulated the scalpel, his other hand flickering with a faint light as he pressed down.
In a sequence too rapid for the eye to follow, he withdrew the still-beating heart in his left hand.
Enio’s chest and abdomen, now empty, displayed only a few non-bleeding blood vessels.
The old man closed the incision with a tight squeeze, sealing it with a flickering light.
Enio’s stomach returned to its original state, devoid of any scars.
Throughout this extraordinary procedure, the special patient’s eyes remained open, as if untouched by the surgical ordeal.
In that moment, he rolled off the dining table, ambled to the door, and exited the room.
The old man opened his suitcase, revealing glass jars containing pale amber liquid, each cradling various organs: spleen, lungs, liver, kidneys, stomach, and intestines…
Placing these items on the dining table in a peculiar order, surrounding the still gently beating scarlet heart, the old man in the loose black robe took a step back. He recited an ancient, malevolent, yet strangely intimate language.
As the unknown murmur resonated, the internal organs ascended slowly, upheld by an invisible force.
Their final positions varied, resembling the internal organs of a standing human.
The heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys emitted a faint glow simultaneously, outlining a form on the dining table. It lacked a head, limbs, or bones, merely a corporeal essence that grew more defined.
A baby’s cry echoed, faint yet tangible.
However, the body distorted, squirmed, and disintegrated in the end.
The old man in the loose black robe sighed with regret.
Strangely, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were noticeably reduced, and much of his white hair had reverted to light gold.
In an instant, he appeared seven or eight years younger.
Sensing his good condition, the elder turned his attention to Lugano.
Lugano, seemingly summoned, approached the dining table and lay down, awaiting with open eyes.
The elder unbuttoned Lugano’s linen shirt, took up the scalpel, and gestured as if deciding where to make the incision.
Suddenly, a loud bang reverberated.
The vermilion door swung open, crashing into the wall.
Crimson flames surged, illuminating the room, climbing the walls and ceiling, transforming the place into a fiery inferno.
Lumian, adorned in black hair, green eyes, a golden straw hat, a cotton shirt, a black vest, and dark pants, materialized at the door and entered the suite.
He calmly addressed the old man in the loose black robe, “Don’t you know he’s my servant?”
The elder’s eyes narrowed as he readied the scalpel to descend towards Lugano’s neck.
However, his right hand refused to budge, seemingly restrained by an invisible force pushing it upward.
In the midst of the rising crimson flames, Lumian paused, displaying no urgency to act. He spoke with intrigue,
“That surgery was quite fascinating—extracting internal organs while leaving the person alive, albeit gradually dying.
“And you used those organs for a ritual, rejuvenating yourself. Meanwhile, you nearly brought forth a peculiar lifeform.”
Surprise flickered in the elder’s dark-blue eyes.
“How do you know?”
Haven’t you just arrived in pursuit of your servant?
And no one entered before you!
Lumian emitted a soft chuckle.
“You don’t need to know.”
I still have a few hours of Governor of the Sea authority. Isn’t it easy to ‘see’ something in these waters?
Sensing Lumian’s confidence, certainty, ease, and absence of hostility, the elder fell silent briefly before expressing, “Life is the most precious, so life becomes the finest sacrifice and ingredient.”
He refrained from divulging details about the surgery or ritual, choosing instead to expound on his philosophy and the truth he sought.
Praising and blaspheming life simultaneously? Lumian arched his eyebrows, finding it vaguely reminiscent of Lady Moon, Madame Night, and the bestowed of the Great Mother.
Carefully assessing the black-robed elder behind the dining table, Lumian, upon confirming his gender, temporarily set aside his sudden anxiety.
Gazing down at the motionless Lugano on the dining table, Lumian casually inquired, “How did you control my servant?”
The elder fixed Lumian with a penetrating gaze, as if probing the depths of his intentions. He pondered, weighing the decision to preach the truth or engage in a confrontation to eradicate the issue.
After a brief silence, he spoke in a resonant voice,
“He’s a Blessed of the Great Mother. He heard the cries of the Son of God.”
Great Mother? Lumian’s scalp tingled at the term.
Had it not been for the Sea Governor’s authority, Lumian would have launched a full-scale attack without allowing the elder a moment to react or explain.
Regardless, even if he eliminated the elder, spirit channeling remained a viable option. Moreover, the elder could be fed to Ludwig!
Though taken aback by the elder’s possible reference to Lugano as a Blessed of Earth Mother, Lumian swiftly dismissed the apparent meaning.
He was certain that Lugano was human and harbored no unusual bloodlines.
Following Lugano’s injury at Solow Motel, Jenna collected his splattered blood and conducted Magic Mirror Divination according to Lumian’s subsequent instructions.
In an instant, Lumian deciphered the elder’s true meaning.
The Beyonders of the Planter pathway are all Blessed of the Great Mother?
Where does Earth Mother stand? Planter is the main pathway of the Church of Earth Mother…
Could it be… the Great Mother reigns over multiple pathways, akin to the Celestial Worthy and Mr. Fool? Planter and Sower? The names bear a striking connection…
As Lumian’s thoughts raced, his focus intensified on the existence of the Son of God. Cordu’s empty infant cradle and the honorific title of Lady Moon nurturing a deity flooded his mind.
Dammit, why is it that the Great Mother seems entwined with children, Sons of God, and babies? Does that entity have a penchant for offspring? Lumian smirked superficially.
“It seems your Son of God hasn’t truly been born.”
The old man in the loose black robe suddenly became fervent.
“He’s already born in the spirit world, but He’s yet to step into the real world.
“Don’t you see? Just revealing His form made me a few years younger. If He were truly born, I’d instantly regain my youth!”
Who knows what malevolent creation you’ve unleashed… Lumian criticized and said, “You plan to shape the Son of God’s body with just this fragment of life?”
The elder was taken aback.
“This is a ritual bestowed by the Great Mother’s revelation. It’s undeniably effective!”
Lumian smiled.
“That Enio is unmistakably an ordinary person. The ritual’s effects won’t bode well. If it were a Beyonder with a robust life force, the outcome might be entirely different.”
The elder instinctively concurred, “Indeed. That’s why I intended to examine your servant’s internal organs…”
At this juncture, the elder halted, casting a wary glance at Lumian.
With a beaming smile, Lumian proposed, “Have you ever thought of sacrificing your own internal organs?
“If you don’t offer yourself as a sacrifice, how can you showcase your devotion to the Great Mother and your reverence for the Son of God?
“Don’t fret; the Son of God will revive you and bestow youth upon you!”
As he concluded his words, a dark-green light condensed in Lumian’s right hand.