Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability

Madam Magician had not confirmed Lumian’s speculation or delved into the deeper truth of Hanth Island’s Demon legends. Lumian realized that this likely involved something he shouldn’t pry into at the moment, or perhaps it was best not to understand until the accumulated corruption was eliminated.

Does “find time” imply that I can go whenever I want, disregarding the healer’s schedule? Has Madam Magician foreseen that there won’t be any issues? Lumian clutched the paper with the spirit world’s coordinates and activated the black mark on his right shoulder.

His figure vanished from the Berries, navigating through the swirling chaos of colors. Occasionally, he felt inexplicable gazes and caught glimpses of indescribable forms.

After an unknown period, Lumian arrived at the location corresponding to the spirit world’s coordinates and stepped out.

Before him stood a towering dome, illuminated by bright glass windows, with a mural depicting an epic scene.

In the midst of the hall, Lumian noticed a ball of sunlight.

Realization struck, prompting him to approach.

As he walked, the sunlight seemed to “spread” over, banishing shadows and darkness wherever it touched.

Soon, Lumian found himself enveloped in the sunlight.

Suddenly, it felt as if pure sunlight pierced through his skin, flesh, bones, and internal organs, exposing his soul.

Bits of illusory black gas were expelled from his soul by the sunlight, portraying various of Lumian’s expressions–ferocious, pained, pleading, or intimidating.

Within seconds, the black gas dissipated under the purifying sunlight.

Simultaneously, Lumian felt his heart throb, and his left chest burned.

The blazing sunlight appeared to expel and purify everything in its path.

Amidst the agonizing heartache, Lumian sensed a change in the seal on his left chest, as if it was concealing itself, synchronizing with the sunlight.

However, before the attempt could fully succeed, the sunlight took the initiative to stop, receding like a tide into the depths of the hall.

Lumian swiftly returned to his usual state. Aside from the lingering discomfort in his heart, he felt significantly more at ease, as if he had suddenly caught the morning breeze and glimpsed the sunrise after an extended period of oppressive darkness.

His attention was drawn to a tall man in a simple white robe standing in the depths of the hall.

Observing the man, Lumian estimated him to be around 22 or 23 years old, towering at over two meters with an imposing aura. Despite his height, he exuded a calm temperament, and his brownish-yellow hair was neatly styled.

“The residual corruption on you has been cleared,” the tall man spoke in ancient Feysac.

Lumian had a suspicion and inquired, “Are you Mr. Sun?”

“Yes,” the young and tall man responded politely, devoid of arrogance or impatience.

He’s actually so young, but one can’t judge his age from his appearance… Lumian expressed his gratitude without delving into further questions.

Indicating towards the hall’s exit, Lumian asked, “Can I go out for a walk?”

Though unaware of his location, the murals suggested it was an essential cathedral of the Church of The Fool.

Lumian deduced that the Major Arcana card holder, The Sun, held a prominent position in the Church, or perhaps even the top position.

“Sure.” Major Arcana The Sun nodded.

Observing the Church of The Fool’s etiquette, Lumian pressed his hand to his chest and bowed before turning to exit the hall.

Once outside, the world teemed with life. Voices and figures surrounded him.

His initial thought: Did I accidentally step into a land of giants?

The shortest individuals on the street were at least 1.89 meters tall, with occasional figures reaching three to four meters. Clad in white shirts, black trench coats, and half top hats, the men carried canes resembling spears, emitting an inexplicable sense of absurdity.

Even the ladies matched the towering height, mostly opting for flexibility in long pants rather than skirts.

Lumian surveyed the area, his gaze traversing doors exceeding four meters in height.

For a moment, he fell silent, feeling like a newborn in this peculiar environment.

However, this realization only briefly dampened his mood for exploration.

Of course, it was only a brief moment.

…

Trier, Trocadéro, at the entrance of a grape manor.

Franca clarified to the valet that her purpose was to visit Madame Clarice, and he stepped aside without guiding her. His stance implied that she knew the way and could proceed independently.

Undeterred, Franca followed the path ingrained in her memory, arriving at the circular pavilion nestled among the grape trees.

Demoness of Black Clarice, adorned in a black court dress, was seated there.

“Good morning, Your Excellency Clarice,” Franca greeted warmly, openly admiring her beautiful face and slightly sorrowful demeanor.

Demoness of Black Clarice nodded slightly and inquired, “Has there been progress in the Mirror People investigation?”

Franca, not in a rush to respond, met Clarice’s dark-gray eyes and remarked, “Is Browns not present?”

“She’s not my lady’s maid. She attends to her own matters,” Demoness of Black Clarice replied succinctly.

“Not at the Red House Café or the hunting ground beside the forest either,” Franca observed the air’s fragrance and chose to engage in conversation with the Demoness of Black.

“She has other matters to attend to,” Clarice evaded delving into Browns’ affairs.

Reluctantly, Franca recounted the details of the Minister of Industry, Moran Avigny’s situation, from the initial sensing of the Mirror World Fragment’s tremors after the play, substituting herself as the person involved.

Clarice remained silent, her eyes lowered in contemplation.

Franca didn’t rush the Demoness of Black. Her gaze flickered between the deep gray of her eyes, the fairness of her delicate skin, the curves that stirred the soul, and the unnaturally alluring red lips.

She knew this wasn’t a good idea, but she couldn’t rein in her impulses. Her heart gradually heated up, and her thoughts got a bit muddled. Her mouth dried, forcing her to purse her lips intermittently.

Dammit! Why am I feeling this way right now? While humans as animals can be susceptible to instincts, I’ve always maintained composure during serious discussions and encounters with high-ranking figures. At most, I’ve held admiration… Could it be that the Demoness of Black is intentionally radiating her charm to draw me in? Or is there another explanation? Yes, the lingering corruption from the Demon incident must be affecting me! Though it’s subtle and doesn’t manifest in my daily life, it’s making it difficult for me to control my desires in the presence of a high-ranking Demoness known for her feminine allure. As a result, I find myself slipping into an aroused state… Franca gritted her teeth, refusing to succumb to the temptations of desire.

Clarice looked up at her.

“Has it been too long since you’ve experienced pleasure?”

“Not since my last lover passed away,” Franca replied truthfully, aware that the Demoness of Black referred to a specific kind of pleasure. She explained, “As I mentioned earlier, to get close to Moran Avigny’s illegitimate daughter, I used a mystical item. Unfortunately, it had a side effect, leading to encounters with Demons and other evil entities for a transaction. I was somewhat affected.”

Clarice’s voice turned icy.

“Endurance is not a sustainable solution. Indulge yourself. Otherwise, the Demon pathway will become your nemesis.”

The Demoness of Black’s aura instantly shifted to a holy and dignified state, becoming inviolable.

Franca also sensed that she couldn’t entertain lascivious thoughts about such a captivating beauty. Her desires gradually subsided, and her mind cleared, breaking free from her aroused state.

Clarice redirected the conversation.

“You aim to deal with Moran Avigny?”

“He should be a crucial Mirror Person. If we can capture him or channel his spirit, we should uncover most of the Mirror People hidden in Trier. Madame, I seek your assistance,” Franca stated, laying out her thoughts.

She avoided mentioning that Moran Avigny shared Clarice’s dark-gray eyes and instead presented a color photo.

Clarice nodded slightly and said, “You can now strategize your operation. I’ll assist during crucial moments, but for most scenarios, you must rely on yourself and the factions under your control.”

“No problem.” Franca didn’t conceal her excitement.

As she exited the vine-surrounded circular pavilion, Demoness of Black Clarice’s dark-gray eyes turned cold as she rose slowly.

…

In a brightly lit bar, Lumian clinked a beer glass, larger than his head, against the nearly three-meter-tall “giant” opposite him and gulped down the golden liquor.

Wiping the corners of his mouth, he chuckled.

“So, this is the New City of Silver in the Bible.”

From the sermons he had heard, Lumian knew that the New City of Silver served as the headquarters of the Church of The Fool, situated in the Sonia Sea. It had been established by the surviving humans rescued by Gehrman Sparrow from the cursed continent of the Forsaken Land of the Gods.

Unexpectedly, the surviving humans were towering figures, almost like giants!

“That’s right. All the warriors here are ready to defend Mr. Fool’s Church at all times!” the nearly three-meter-tall giant expressed with satisfaction. “You’re not bad. You worship the Angel of Redemption and believe in Mr. Fool. Just these two points alone makes us brothers!”

He extended his right palm and slapped Lumian, nearly toppling him. It felt like a child encountering a brown bear’s paw.

Lumian forced a smile and inquired, “Can you share more about the Angel of Redemption’s deeds in the Forsaken Land of the Gods?”