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n353 Crazy Figure

n“You’ve already obtained it. How can you not give it a try?” The ghastly white skeletons stared at Lumian, their terrifying aura intimidating him. They laughed mockingly, their laughter exaggerated and crazed.

nSplash!

nThe dark spring water, not pale-white enough, gushed from the dark hole and filled the small “pond.”

nCompared to before, there was an additional figure in the water.

nThe figure seemed to be engulfed in an intense inferno, almost colorless flames covering its entire body.

nDespite occupying only a corner of the spring, Lumian, frozen in fear, felt it was abnormally huge, like a mountain peak.

nWithin the nearly intangible flames, the figure revealed long, blood-colored hair. Its sculpted face was marred by decay and pus, and its bones gleamed with a metallic luster. Its iron-black eyes seemed rusted, emitting a sinister blood-red glow.

nYellowish “magma” dripped from the figure’s body, quickly extinguished by the pale-white spring water.

nAs the Samaritan Women’s Spring surged again, the dense white bones that had made the sound fell silent, as if they were about to decay into mud.

nSeeing the decomposing mountain-like figure, the stench of blood and rust intensified in Lumian’s nostrils. His stunned mind was tinged with a madness that yearned to destroy everything, igniting his already violent and ferocious aura.

nIf he hadn’t been on the brink of death, his thoughts completely stalled, he might have lost his mind and become a lunatic.

nHe could lose control at any moment if that happened.

nIn any case, he stood frozen in place, as if facing his most feared natural enemy. All he knew was to tremble, forget to resist, and forget to escape.

nSplash!

nThe highly decayed figure, shrouded in intangible flames, entered the pitch-black cave, determined to reach the edge of the Samaritan Women’s Spring. It reached out its right palm, dripping with a faint yellowish-red liquid, trying to grab Lumian, who stood there.

nThe spring water surged, and a faint fog gathered, preventing the figure, which appeared as massive as a mountain, from leaving the spring.

nA low growl escaped the figure, and its iron-black eyes emitted a corrupting redness, capable of unsettling anyone who lay their eyes on them.

nUnder this influence, Lumian’s mind buzzed, and he went blank. The Samaritan Women’s Spring trembled violently.

nAlthough the terrifying figure couldn’t break free from the spring’s constraints, it successfully blocked the spring water’s retreat into the dark hole.

nSimultaneously, the decayed and shadowy figures within the spring surged toward the shore, driven by the low growl.

nAmong them, there was a woman filled with pus exuding a serene night-like temperament, a decaying corpse adorned with a golden crown, an iron-colored skeleton sprouting greasy feathers, a figure entwined with countless shattered maggots, and a strange black entity…

nThese figures, too, couldn’t leave the Samaritan Women’s Spring but approached the edge, extending pale-white, pus-covered or highly decayed palms made of repulsive maggots toward Lumian’s feet.

nThe long black hair floating on the water’s surface, resembling a tangle of weeds, suddenly came to life and extended rapidly beyond the spring.

nThe white-robed woman lingering around the Samaritan Women’s Spring was instantly ensnared by the long black hair. Lumian’s figure reflected in her stiff, cold blue eyes.

nBizarre and terrifying palms gripped Lumian, and the long black hair tugged at him. Slowly and uncontrollably, he slid toward the Samaritan Women’s Spring, drawing closer to the colossal figure formed by madness and flames.

nHis body grew colder, and his thoughts went blank.

nAt that moment, all light suddenly vanished, and he was consumed by a most profound darkness.

nMelodious singing and chanting echoed from afar, soothing the area. The blurry and shadowy figures no longer displayed the same level of madness as before, as if they had been pacified.

nThe terrifying palms that had clutched Lumian’s feet and nearly froze his spirit and flesh retracted. The long black hair that had tugged at his body lost its vitality and fell to the ground, powerless. The figure suspected to be a high-ranking Demoness lingering around the Samaritan Women’s Spring also came to a halt, as if listening to a nocturnal symphony.

nEven the most terrifying and frenzied figure slowed down, its terrifying aura significantly weakening.

nLumian snapped out of his daze and instantly comprehended what had transpired.

nThe thief who had stolen the Earth Blood ore was none other than Monette of Salle de Bal Unique!

nMonette had deliberately orchestrated a coincidental encounter with him on the fourth level of the catacombs. Using his thieving skills, he had surreptitiously returned the Earth Blood ore, enabling Lumian to bring the ore specimen to the Samaritan Women’s Spring without detection, triggering this bizarre turn of events!

nLumian had never intended to take the Earth Blood ore underground, deeming it too dangerous given his current abilities. Monette’s theft and return of the ore had been a passive way to provoke an encounter, the nature of which remained uncertain!

nAs for Monette’s motives, Lumian knew he might only uncover them after this ordeal concluded.

nWith his thoughts racing, Lumian instinctively reached for Hela’s arm, intending to activate his contract mark and escape using spirit world traversal.

nIn the process, he attempted to rid himself of the Earth Blood ore, hoping to distract the crazed figure with long, blood-colored hair.

nHowever, the Earth Blood ore appeared to be affected by the abnormal environment, showing visible signs of deterioration.

nSilently, it crumbled, dissolving into the air. The hidden blood stains marked Lumian’s palm, corroding his skin.

nMeanwhile, the flame of the white candle Hela held flickered precariously, on the brink of extinguishing. The black diamond ring on her right hand emitted a profound darkness.

nAfter grasping her arm, Lumian realized they were both frozen in place.

nThis area seemed to be cut off from the spirit world, rendering escape impossible!

nI can’t escape… Lumian retracted his hand decisively and addressed the fiery figure, who gazed at him with madness: “Ha!”

nA pale-yellow beam emanated from his mouth, striking the dark, mountain-like figure.

nThe figure swayed, but remained unharmed. It unleashed an intangible roar once more.

nReceiving this new “command,” the bizarre figures, previously calmed by the tranquil night, trembled. They extended their decaying or repulsive hands once again, clutching at Lumian’s feet. The black hair, previously lying dormant, rose again.

nRealizing evasion was futile, Lumian’s body erupted in fiery flames.

nThe crimson blossoms of destruction rapidly dimmed and faded, as if their vitality had been extinguished in an instant.

nThe pale-white, pus-filled hand was the first to seize Lumian’s right foot, “silencing” him as his thoughts rapidly waned.

nThe highly decayed hand, the iron-colored skeleton adorned with light-yellow feathers, and the form intertwined with shattered maggots fulfilled their tasks one after another. They dragged Lumian, who appeared as if in a trance with wide-open eyes, toward the Samaritan Women’s Spring.

nHela found herself encircled by layers of long black hair. It pierced through the tranquility of the night, enveloping the lady, who displayed signs of decay.

nLumian stared vacantly at the rigid, decomposing countenance, at the iron-black eyes tinged with blood. He sensed an overwhelming, unadulterated madness but could summon no coherent thought.

nHis body grew more rigid, and purplish-red livor mortis emerged on his flesh.

nHe was now just a step away from the pale-white spring.

nAt that moment, the Samaritan Women’s Spring, which had been held at bay by the colossal figure for an extended period, finally surged forward, breaking through the barrier. It swept all the figures, including the colossal one engulfed in invisible flames, back into the lightless abyss of the dark hole.

nThe colossal figure emitted a furious roar, but it was helpless against the relentless flow of pale-white spring water, vanishing into the depths of the abyss.

nLumian “woke up” and spotted the white-robed woman lingering nearby. He swiftly turned and sprinted toward the crest of the slope.

nHis plan was straightforward:

nSince the abnormality stemmed from the Earth Blood ore, which had partially melded with his palm, he needed to seize this chance to escape. It was not the time to collect the remaining spring water.

nAs long as he could make his getaway before the pale-white spring surged again and the menacing figures resurfaced, Hela would be safer left behind. She could gather the water calmly and share it with him later.

nTo escape, given that teleportation had failed, his legs were his sole option now.

nAs Lumian ran, he readied himself for any potential setbacks.

nHarnessing his Pyromaniac abilities, he steadied the flame of the white candle and retrieved the Flog boxing gloves from his bag, fitting them onto his hands.

nConcurrently, he attempted to invoke The Fool’s honorific name in Hermes.

n“The Fool that doesn’t belong to this era…”

nThis inspiration was triggered by the grayish-white fog enveloping the Samaritan Women’s Spring!

nSplash!

nMidway through his invocation and while covering some ground, Lumian heard the sound of the spring water surging.

nIt was faster than he had anticipated!

nThe growl, steeped in the scent of blood and rust, reverberated through the surroundings.

nUnaware of Lumian’s thought process, Hela’s body shuddered once more, as if she had transformed from an emotionless corpse into a frightened living being.

nOut of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the colossal, invisible-flame-shrouded figure with blood-colored hair and tattered, bloodstained armor.

nLumian, too, was taken aback. He even felt an inclination to surrender and give up his resistance.

nHe strained to endure, unable to continue invoking the honorific name. His only recourse was to place his faith in the Flog boxing gloves.

nIf he could hold out just a little longer, the hidden evil gods might direct Their attention toward him because of the material of the boxing gloves, sending forth dangerous creatures to influence or assail him.

nIn the past, Lumian would have prayed for the impending abnormality to remain manageable. But now, he hoped that the more dangerous it became, the better!

nOnly by muddying the waters would a fish have a chance to escape!

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