Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability
Chapter Summary
In this role, she watches over the lands of betrayal and the children who have strayed from the Mother’s embrace.” Gulp… Lugano instinctively swallowed, uncertain about how to counter Father Montserrat. With the invisible baby cradled in his arms, Montserrat manifested on the colossal illusory oak tree and smiled down at Lugano. We originated from the Mother, and we shall return to her.” Just as the priest, with clear eyes and a warm smile, finished speaking, a knock on the door reverberated in ...
Lugano’s scalp tingled as he found himself in a surreal encounter with Father Montserrat, bathed in the glow of the crimson moonlight. The sight of the priest, cradling an invisible child in his arms, sent shivers down Lugano’s spine.
Is he carrying a child?
An invisible child?
The so-called Child of God?
Frightened by the association, Lugano tried to quickly shut the door before the owner noticed, as if he had wandered into the wrong room. He slipped away without making a sound.
Suddenly, Father Montserrat’s voice echoed in the air.
“Are you here for prayer?”
Lugano’s eyes tightened, and like a startled wild cat, he swiftly turned and sprinted towards the staircase.
All he could think about at that moment was his formidable employer!
However, what met his eyes was utter darkness. No staircase with a wooden floor in sight.
In the shadows, clusters of pitch-black weeds, with plump wheat, swayed in eerie silence.
Lugano’s body tensed, uncertain about the unknown that awaited him in this abyss of darkness.
“Why did you run?” The weeds parted, revealing Father Montserrat, holding an invisible baby. Behind him, an illusionary, unusually massive oak tree stood tall.
Next to the weeds, the oak tree was covered in abnormal growths, forming a chillingly simple and ominous Sacred Emblem of Life.
As Father Montserrat, clad in a brown priest’s uniform, appeared less than three meters away, Lugano swallowed hard, offering a feeble excuse.
“It’s late. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Father Montserrat remained cradling his arms, wearing a faint smile.
“What did you see?”
Every hair on Lugano’s neck stood on end, and cold sweat broke out on his back.
Struggling, Lugano pointed at Father Montserrat’s empty embrace, asking with difficulty, “Why are you doing this?”
Father Montserrat responded with a significant tone, “We’re all Mother’s children.”
Lugano didn’t dare to delve further and nodded repeatedly.
“Yes, yes, yes. We’re all Mother’s children.”
Father Montserrat didn’t allow him to navigate through with platitudes. He deliberately added,
“The child of the Great Mother.”
Great Mother… Although Lugano had anticipated this answer, his heart almost skipped a beat, and his mind went blank upon hearing it.
Seeing that Father Montserrat had made it explicit, Lugano had no choice but to inquire,
“Aren’t… aren’t you a follower of Earth Mother?”
Father Montserrat felt no remorse about betraying the Church of Earth Mother. He maintained a warm smile and explained, “Earth Mother is a facet of the Great Mother, a projection. In this role, she watches over the lands of betrayal and the children who have strayed from the Mother’s embrace.”
Gulp… Lugano instinctively swallowed, uncertain about how to counter Father Montserrat.
Having joined the Church of Earth Mother just a day ago and attended only two sermons, he lacked the profound theological knowledge to challenge such heretics.
He could, of course, outright deny it. After all, Montserrat’s explanation sounded ominous. If the priest’s words were true, with the Earth Mother Church’s resources and factions, the so-called Child of God should have already been born in the real world, and the Great Mother would have returned. Yet, that hadn’t happened.
The current scene and the invisible pressure silenced Lugano, refraining from outright denial.
What if he enraged Father Montserrat completely?
Father Montserrat continued, “All creatures in this world are the children of the Great Mother. Some were conceived by her, some are descendants of these deities, and some, like you and me, were directly transformed from the flesh and blood of the Great Mother. We share the strongest connection with her!”
Internally, Lugano couldn’t help but retort, I was born by my mother, not transformed from the flesh and blood of the Great Mother… However, his smile remained, more grimacing than joyous.
“Don’t you find the Great Mother’s believers sinister and terrifying?”
Father Montserrat smiled and reassured, “There’s no need to fear the return of the Great Mother. How can a mother hate her child?
“You might not know, but there are many worlds beyond ours. The creatures in those places flourish under the watch of the Great Mother, constantly reproducing and growing. I’ve never heard of any species being eradicated. Instead, their numbers are increasing.
“Moreover, it’s the Great Mother who granted us life. It’s her prerogative to reclaim the life she bestowed upon us. We should cooperate willingly.”
Cooperate my rear end, you son of a sow! Lugano wasn’t bewitched. Suddenly, he drew his concealed revolver and fired two shots at Father Montserrat.
Without confirming the effectiveness of the shots, he swiftly turned and sprinted toward the dark expanse filled with black weeds.
Though the destination within the dark depths was unknown, perhaps harboring great peril, staying here seemed even more hazardous!
“Waaa!”
Abruptly, Lugano heard an almost ethereal cry of an infant.
It was exactly the same as the sounds he had heard several times before.
Lugano’s expression froze, and his pace slowed as he ran.
His eyes gradually filled with emptiness, and he turned around. Step by step, he approached Father Montserrat, who was cradling an invisible baby, and the illusory, colossal oak tree.
“That’s our mother…
“The mother who gave us life…
“She’s willing to accept anyone who repents, every child who returns home…
“If she wants to take back the life she bestowed upon us, then let her. She has the prerogative to reclaim what she gave…”
Listening to Father Montserrat’s abnormally ethereal yet seemingly close voice, Lugano gradually developed a strong and heartfelt acceptance.
Yes, that’s my mother…
Why would she harm me?
She can take back what she had given…
Lugano walked faster and faster until he stood beside Father Montserrat.
Instantly, he felt warmth and relief. It was the scent of a mother’s embrace.
Gradually, he experienced an indescribable moist sensation, as if a kitten were being licked by a female cat.
How comforting… Lugano half-closed his eyes.
At that moment, he heard his mother’s favorite nursery rhyme
—from behind him.
Why is Mom behind me? Shouldn’t she be in front? Lugano wondered vaguely.
Then, he heard his mother shouting behind him, “Don’t go over!
“Don’t move forward!
“Danger!”
Don’t go over… Don’t move forward… Danger… Lugano shuddered, his vacant eyes regaining a certain vigor.
He saw where he was—the illusory colossal oak tree and moist, warm, squirming flesh petals sprouting from it. Half of his body was already enveloped in the flesh petals, slowly pulling inward.
This was the motherly embrace he had just experienced.
Lugano’s pupils dilated, and a chill ran down his spine, causing his hair to stand on end.
He exerted strength against the viscous liquid-covered flesh with both hands, swiftly pulling away.
Father Montserrat, cradling an invisible baby, appeared beside Lugano, wearing a warm smile.
“Return. Return to the Mother’s embrace and revert to our original form.”
Despair gripped Lugano.
He wanted to confront the priest, but sadly, having consumed two potions—Planter and Doctor—he realized that, apart from enhanced strength and proficiency with farming tools and a scalpel, he lacked Beyonder powers directly applicable in combat. These powers included predicting the weather, identifying and nurturing seeds, treating ailments, healing wounds, stitching up souls, bestowing life, or possessing outstanding surgical abilities.
In the past, Lugano had relied on the combat techniques and marksmanship learned as a bounty hunter to match a Planter’s strength and firearms.
Nevertheless, not resisting at a moment like this meant certain death. Lugano, an adventurer with a history of killing, faced immense fear as he fired at Father Montserrat and drew a sharp scalpel.
…
In Lumian’s first-class cabin suite,Lumian, still engrossed in the Dutanese textbook under the kerosene wall lamp, heard a knock on the door.
Perplexed, he stood up, opened the door, and found Ludwig.
Ludwig, clad in grayish-white checkered pajamas top and pants, spoke gravely,
“Lugano has encountered an accident. Hurry up and save him.”
An accident? Lumian arched his eyebrows.
Knowing that Lugano could still hear the baby’s cries, Lumian had discreetly heightened his surveillance and attention on the servant, including just now.
But how could an accident occur when Lugano had entered the Earth Mother Church’s prayer room?
Ludwig continued, “I couldn’t sense his scent after he entered the prayer room.”
“What scent?” Lumian inquired casually, already forming a vague suspicion.
Ludwig responded nonchalantly,”The smell of food.”
Lumian stretched his neck and wrists, regarding Ludwig thoughtfully.
“You deliberately sniffed his scent.”
Ludwig’s chubby cheeks displayed an expression that said, “What’s so odd about that?”
“If he perishes and you’re busy elsewhere, who will assist me in gathering food?”
“That’s a valid point.” Lumian grinned.
…
In the darkness, enveloped by black weeds, Lugano’s scalpel sliced through the air as he attempted to strike Father Montserrat.
“Waaa!”
The baby’s cries echoed once more, leaving Lugano in a momentary daze, teetering on the edge of losing control.
With the invisible baby cradled in his arms, Montserrat manifested on the colossal illusory oak tree and smiled down at Lugano.
“Don’t resist. We originated from the Mother, and we shall return to her.”
Just as the priest, with clear eyes and a warm smile, finished speaking, a knock on the door reverberated in the seemingly endless darkness, echoing among the weeds with abundant wheat.
Upon hearing the polite knock on the door, Lugano had an inexplicable thought.
How polite—to knock at the door in such a situation…