Chapter 565 Possible Breakthrough
565 Possible Breakthrough
565 Possible Breakthrough
Franca’s emotions were stirred by Lumian’s words, and she responded with antic.i.p.ation, “Then it’s akin to catching a fox by its tail. When the time comes, we’ll summon good helpers and strive to eliminate a few more key members of April Fool’s!”
As she spoke, she gritted her teeth.
Despite Lumian and Franca making various guesses and deductions about Ultraman’s role in last year’s prank, none of them felt they had grasped the key to the mystery.
Franca exhaled and said, “Phew, there are still some important puzzle pieces missing. See if you can fish out more details.”
She needed to return to Trier.
Lumian tersely acknowledged her words and asked thoughtfully, “How’s your search for the Tamara family’s descendant going?”
“Nothing yet, but Madam Judgment intends to inform the other Major Arcana card holders about this. She hopes they can help keep an eye out,” Franca briefly explained her situation.
Lumian gazed at her face and said, “I have an investigative direction.”
“What?” Franca perked up.
Lumian’s lips curled up.
“Investigate the other members of the Demoness Sect in Trier.
“Given the close ties between certain members of the Tamara family and the Demoness Sect, they might even be collaborating to establish the secret organization, Theosophy Order. There’s a chance that one of them could directly join the Demoness Sect.
“Moreover, considering Madam Judgment’s mission for you to infiltrate the Demoness Sect, discern the Primordial Demoness’s current state and issues, why not investigate other Demonesses? Are you going to wait until you reach the level of a powerhouse like a Demoness of Red before gathering information? Do you believe there will be enough Angel-level Hunter Beyonder characteristics to aid your return to your original gender at that point?”
“Why the Demoness of Red?” Franca instinctively focused on this question.
Lumian smiled.
“Have you forgotten your nickname, Madame Red Boots?”
Franca smiled awkwardly.
“Isn’t that to create a persona with characteristics that can be easily changed when you’re on the run? It’s clearly different from the description on the wanted poster.
“Ahem, isn’t it too dangerous to investigate other Demonesses under the watchful eyes of the Demoness of Black?”
Lumian raised his eyebrows and smiled meaningfully.
“Why are you investigating the Tamara family?”
“Investigating Mirror People,” Franca replied subconsciously.
Lumian asked again, “And who a.s.signed you the Mirror People investigation?”
“The Demoness of Black…” Franca immediately shut her mouth.
She then muttered to herself, “However, an intricate balance needs to be struck. The source of the intel must be fabricated nicely; otherwise, we’ll still be suspected.”
Lumian didn’t say anything else. He grabbed Franca’s shoulder and planned to send her back to Trier.
Franca glanced at the curtained window and eagerly said, “Remember to ask me for help when you visit the combat nuns in the future.”
She arrived in Port Santa in the afternoon and spent a long time using the fake name—Charname—she chose herself, and the face on Lumian’s fake ID to travel about. With her fluent Highlander, she quickly grasped the folklore and combat nuns’ styles.
Lumian scoffed dismissively.
“Don’t even think about it. You can’t impregnate them.”
Franca replied indignantly, “Theoretically, it’s not impossible, but it’s quite dangerous. Think about it, Madame Pualis.”
Lumian was left speechless.
“Besides, giving birth isn’t the only important thing in life…” Franca continued to search for an excuse.
Lumian exhaled silently and activated the black mark on his right shoulder.
He disappeared from the master bedroom with Franca, who was still talking.
In no time, Lumian reappeared at the exact spot he had left.
Shaking his head and teasing Franca, he eased back into the armchair.
It had to be acknowledged that bantering and joking with friends, free from the need for caution, proved helpful in relieving the pent-up emotions within him.
Having regained his composure, Lumian reclined in his chair, sorting through the information on the sea prayer ritual and various rhetoric in his mind. He sought details that might unveil traces of Ultraman’s existence and confirm any overlooked issues.
As a Conspirer, Lumian didn’t require jotting down key points on paper. He relied on his eyes to decipher the hints. All the information formed a colossal spiderweb in his mind, slowly weaving and transforming.
After a while, he abruptly sat upright.
A breakthrough had been unearthed that could expose the essence of the sea prayer ritual.
Lumian stood and exited the master bedroom. He spotted Ludwig devouring a crispy potato omelet at the dining table in the living room.
Seated across from the boy, Lumian smiled as he retrieved the mutated black spider’s compound eye, a spiritual ingredient lacking Beyonder characteristics.
Ludwig immediately glanced up at Lumian.
“Can you eat this?” Lumian flicked the black compound eye.
Ludwig vigorously nodded.
“Yes.”
Intrigued, Lumian took out the Mystery Prying Gla.s.ses and inquired, “Can you eat this?”
“Not yet,” Ludwig honestly replied.
Not yet. In other words, perhaps in the future? Lumian stowed away the Mystery Prying Gla.s.ses and placed the mutated black spider’s compound eye on the dining table before him.
“I’d like you to translate something. If you can provide the correct answer, it’s yours for consumption.”
Ludwig gulped and agreed, “Okay.”
Lumian recalled Lato Guiaro’s strange p.r.o.nunciation and emitted a chattering sound.
Finally, he said, “That’s the general idea.”
Ludwig shook his head in disappointment.
“I don’t know.”
He paused briefly before adding, “But I think I’ve heard it somewhere. It’s somewhat familiar.”
Had most of his memories and knowledge been sealed when his Body of Heart and Mind was sealed? Under Ludwig’s reluctant gaze, Lumian returned the mutated black spider’s compound eye to his Traveler’s Bag.
Ludwig shoved a mouthful of potato omelet into his mouth and mumbled, “If you can find a creature that understands this language for me to eat, I can translate for you.”
Wh… Lumian asked in surprise, “Can you acquire a certain ability or knowledge by consuming something?”
“There’s a time limit, and it depends on the specific situation,” Ludwig succinctly explained without elaborating.
Lumian nodded thoughtfully.
“Were you able to reveal information about the Batings Black Insect because you had consumed that kind of insect shortly before?”
Ludwig nodded. “Yes, it wanted to ambush me. It had been waiting for a long time.”
That explains it. I had thought you had recovered some of your memories and knowledge. Indeed, a paralyzing attack wouldn’t only target Lugano. After all, this could turn into a trap at any moment… Lumian stood up and left the dining table, returning to the master bedroom under Ludwig’s pitiful gaze.
He had no means to find Ludwig a creature that understood the Language of the Sea. The Fisheries Guild members couldn’t be certain if their interpretation was accurate.
After entering the master bedroom and closing the door, Lumian lowered his voice and said, “Temiboros, do you understand that language? Do you know the true meaning of that sentence?”
Termiboros’s majestic voice echoed in Lumian’s ears.
“In any case, it doesn’t mean ‘We espouse thee, O sea, as a sign of true and perpetual dominion.’”
With that, Termiboros fell silent again, showing no intention of explaining the true meaning to Lumian.
Dammit, might as well not answer! You confirmed my guess but didn’t unveil the true content! Heh heh, could it be that you’re just pretending to understand? Lumian cursed inwardly, feeling that Termiboros, the Angel of Inevitability, was becoming less direct and straightforward than before. He didn’t comprehend the art of sophistry.
Gradually, He learned how to infuriate!
Lumian composed himself and settled back into the armchair. Unfolding the letter, he began writing to Madam Magician.
Detailing his travels, he recounted what he had observed in Port Santa. Finally, he pieced together the p.r.o.nunciation and wrote down the words to the unknown language. He gave the interpretation of what the Fisheries Guild believed: “We espouse thee, O sea, as a sign of true and perpetual dominion.” Then, he made a request: Madam, have you encountered this language before? Do you know its true meaning?”
After folding the letter, Lumian initiated a ritual and summoned the “doll” messenger.
The “doll” messenger, adorned in a light-gold dress, emerged from the candle’s flame and surveyed its surroundings. In a menacing tone, it declared, “Don’t let that filthy child near me!”
“He’s dining outside. He won’t enter without my permission.” For some reason, Lumian sensed hidden fear in the “doll” messenger’s aggressive words.
The messenger nodded in satisfaction.
“Keep an eye on it! If it acts up, don’t feed it!”
Using it as a subst.i.tute name… Lumian smiled and said, “If I don’t feed him, something even more terrifying might happen.”
The messenger fell silent for a moment before saying,
“Then feed it more!”
With that, the doll-like messenger swiftly withdrew the folded letter into the candle flame.
Lumian concluded the ritual, extinguished the candle’s flame, and gazed at the master bedroom’s door. He muttered to himself, It’s indeed a dangerous sealed creature…
He then retrieved the golden pocket watch from Salle de Bal Brise and opened it to take a look.
Suddenly, he transformed into a shadow, seamlessly blending into the darkness.
There was still something to attend to tonight.
…
In the port district, atop the Fisheries Guild’s castle-like building, Lumian found Lato Guiaro waiting on the spot resembling a tower, dressed in a formal suit.
“Are you on duty tonight?” Lumian casually pressed down on his golden straw hat, as if engaging in casual conversation with a friend.
Lato, the middle-aged man, sighed and said, “Originally, no, but since you wanted to come over, that’s the case. We can’t let an old man like the president do it, right?”
Without further ado, Lumian conjured delayed crimson, nearly white fireb.a.l.l.s and hurled them into various corners of the tower.
Having completed this task, he waved at Lato Guiaro and melted back into the shadows.
Lato approached the tower’s entrance, clenching his fists in fear.
In just 30 seconds, the crimson, nearly white fireb.a.l.l.s exploded simultaneously.
Rumble!
The entire tower became engulfed in flames, and Lato, stationed at the entrance, was sent flying by the shockwave.
Bright scales had already surfaced on his body to mitigate the damage.
Rumble!
In less than half an hour, everyone in Port Santa who was well-informed learned something: the Fisheries Guild had been bombed!