399 Mandrake

The lanky figure, though startled, sprang into action.

In a swift motion, he launched a powerful kick with his knee, lunging at Lumian, leaving only a blur behind.

Rather than reaching out with his right hand, which was gripping the strange weeds, he extended his nails, etched with mystical symbols and patterns, appearing hard and razor-sharp.

Darkness surrounding Lumian seemed to awaken, converging into pitch-black chains that aimed to ensnare him in place.

Lumian’s gaze remained resolute as he observed the rapidly approaching figure. He emitted a soft harrumph.

Two beams of brilliant white light shot forth from his nostrils, striking the target before he could evade in time.

The tall, slender figure suddenly crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

The illusory chains, formed from darkness, disintegrated into nothingness.

Lumian, donning a different visage, grinned and shook his head. “You actually opted for an attack rather than fleeing.”

Utilizing spirit world traversal, he teleported to close the distance with his target discreetly, preventing him from sensing the impending danger. When they were within mere meters of each other, escape or counterattack became impossible. At worst, both parties would sustain injuries. Hence, Lumian still had time for a “greeting.” If the other party cooperated and answered civilly, there might be no need for a confrontation.

It was akin to a phrase frequently espoused by the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society:

Encouraging compliance through good morals!

Lumian carefully observed for a few moments and confirmed that the tall, thin figure had indeed fainted.

He bent down to examine the peculiar blood-red rooted weeds. Apart from their extraordinary spiritual properties, they seemed rather ordinary.

After some contemplation, Lumian hoisted the unconscious figure and shook him vigorously.

As the target began to stir, Lumian released his grip and stepped back.

Based on the previous skirmish, Lumian suspected that the other party was a Mid-Sequence Beyonder from the Apothecary pathway, specifically Sequence 7, known as Vampire. This meant that any human who consumed the corresponding potion to advance would eventually undergo a transformation into another species.

Aurore possessed substantial knowledge about Vampires’ characteristics and abilities, as the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society included two individuals known as Sanguines, one of whom bore the code name “Headmaster.”

Hence, Lumian deduced the target’s identity based on his swift reflexes, formidable nails, and the dark shackles-like spells he wielded.

Since he wasn’t a Psychiatrist and didn’t possess any similar items, they weren’t truly enemies. The best course of action was to engage in a friendly and cooperative conversation.

As soon as the lanky figure regained consciousness, he sprang to his feet and scanned his surroundings with a wary gaze. His eyes fell upon a blond youth standing by the gallows, dressed in a crisp outfit and wearing a friendly smile.

Instinctively, he considered launching an attack, but a rational thought held him back.

The other party had clearly demonstrated the ability to subdue him effortlessly, with the power to end his life or sell him at any moment. However, instead of harm, he had chosen to awaken him!

This implied an absence of immediate malice. Moreover, it indicated a profound confidence in his own capabilities, as if he were unafraid of any resistance or escape.

The lanky figure recalled the other party’s sudden appearance and the peculiar white beams. He couldn’t help but feel that even if the barons or even viscounts from his family were to confront him, the outcome wouldn’t be so swift and one-sided.

Coupled with his ignorance of the two white beams’ nature and the corresponding pathway, he suspected that the individual before him had surpassed his expectations in terms of Sequence.

“What do you want?” the lanky figure inquired in a deep voice.

Lumian remained composed, ready to employ the Spell of Harrumph if necessary.

“Are you a Vampire?”

“Sanguine,” the lanky figure emphasized.

Lumian cast his eyes skyward at the crimson moon and inquired with a smile, “Which family?”

Though he possessed no knowledge of the numerous Vampire families or the renowned last names, it didn’t prevent him from assuming the role of an ancient being, wise and well-traveled.

Sensing the fear in the lanky figure’s demeanor, Lumian seized the opportunity to play this role, drawing inspiration from figures like the ancient monster Amon, who had lived for eons.

“I hail from the Bruch family,” the tall, slender figure declared with pride. “My name is La Nou Bruch.”

What kind of family is this? I’ve never heard of them… Lumian nodded slightly and said, “Ah, the Bruch family.”

He glanced at the strange weed in La Nou’s hand. “What is this?”

“It’s Mandrake,” La Nou responded truthfully, believing that such a potent Beyonder wouldn’t have much interest in a plant primarily used for spiritual purposes.

You mustn’t merely answer my questions one by one. Be proactive and provide context and your reasons for being here. How can I maintain my image like this? Lumian chided him internally as he thought rapidly.

“Did you come specifically to retrieve it because this herb holds unique significance for you?”

La Nou hesitated for a moment before succumbing to his fear.

“Yes, the lotion made from it can help me withstand the spirituality surge during the full moon.”

Spirituality surge… Lumian recalled some details from Aurore’s grimoires: The Headmaster of the Academy team had sought a solution to the spirituality surge during the full moon within the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society, but had found none.

According to Sanguine accounts, after the awakening of the Ancestor of the ancient species a few years ago and Her reclamation of authority from the Evernight Goddess, all Sanguines had become unstable during the full moon.

This wasn’t the madness that afflicted the Mutants, but a form of sublimation. Nevertheless, the sudden surge in spirituality, akin to a rising tide, placed a substantial burden on the Vampires’ bodies. Some experienced hallucinations or unnecessary danger due to their heightened spiritual perception during this period.

Lumian regarded La Nou with interest and asked, “Mandrake can suppress the spirituality surge during the full moon?”

“The few Sanguines I’ve encountered seem to be unaware of this.”

The entire Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society was unaware!

La Nou didn’t hide his smugness.

“I believe I may be the first to have made this discovery. Mandrake is a plant that thrives beneath the corpses of hanged individuals. It appears to draw power from some sort of earthbound divine influence.”

Spiritual plants associated with the earth domain? Lumian inquired thoughtfully, “How did you stumble upon this revelation?”

Observing that such a formidable Beyonder was ignorant of the origins and applications of Mandrake, La Nou’s smile broadened.

“At first, there were rumors circulating about the plants that grew beneath the bodies of the hanged being able to treat various ailments. Given that every Sanguine is an Apothecary, I couldn’t entirely dismiss these rumors. So, I decided to give it a shot. I crafted a Mandrake lotion and found that it remarkably suppressed spirituality fluctuations.”

Rumor… Rumors once again… Lumian suppressed his frown.

“Do you happen to know where these rumors originated?”

“I’m afraid not,” La Nou replied with a shake of his head. “In Trier, rumors abound. For example, in recent months, I was concerned that the reckless harvesting of Mandrake by uninformed citizens might disrupt its growth. However, new rumors have surfaced, with people now chasing after blood-soaked soil from death row inmates.”

“It’s indeed a challenge to trace the origins of rumors in Trier,” Lumian remarked, a touch of resignation in his voice.

“Why did you bring soil stained with the blood of a death row inmate to the gallows?”

La Nou proudly displayed his findings.

“I’ve discovered that Mandrake flourishes beneath the bodies of hanged individuals. While it’s most effective, hanging people isn’t a common occurrence. However, by using the blood of other death row inmates to nourish it, Mandrake can still grow. Although it’s not as potent, it gets the job done.”

Lumian nodded thoughtfully, considering another aspect of the issue.

“Who initially gave the Mandrake its name? Wasn’t it merely a rumor in the beginning?”

When it came to topics within his apparent “profession,” La Nou spoke confidently.

“This plant has borne its name for quite some time, though no one had discovered its medicinal value until now. It was primarily utilized as a spiritual ingredient and as a component in certain spells…”

At this juncture, La Nou suddenly fell into a momentary stupor.

“Why haven’t my ancestors, the illustrious Apothecaries, attempted to concoct lotions with Mandrake? They aren’t confined to traditional knowledge; they explore ingredients based on principles and develop new lotions…”

“Perhaps they did try, but there was no spiritual surge in those times?”

Could it be that Mandrake possessed some mystical power triggered by the spirituality surge accompanying the full moon? Lumian, not being an Apothecary or a Mysticologist, couldn’t arrive at a conclusive answer. All he could do was speculate based on La Nou’s musings.

He changed the subject.

“Why did you refrain from reporting the Mandrake’s utility to your elders? It could hold great significance for the entire Sanguine community.”

La Nou stammered, “There are still some issues with the lotions I’ve crafted. I’m uncertain if the toxicity of Mandrake can be entirely neutralized. I plan to verify this before informing the higher-ups. Only then can I have a clear chance at ascending to the rank of baron.”

“What issues have you encountered?” Lumian queried, part-curious and partly assisting the Headmaster of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society.

La Nou adjusted his long, black hair and expressed his concerns with a mix of confusion and apprehension.

“Whenever I consume the various Mandrake-based lotions, it’s akin to ingesting poisonous mushrooms. I witness an abundance of flowers blooming on the ground, with countless tiny figures dancing amidst them. I find myself covered in mushrooms.

“The illusions vary somewhat each time, but recurring elements persist.”

Could it be that your preemptive entry into the illusion mitigates the adverse effects of your spirituality surge state? Is that why you believe Mandrake can suppress this phenomenon? Lumian silently pondered.

Without further ado, he activated his spirit world traversal ability and vanished from La Nou’s view.

A Sequence 5 Traveler or an item of similar nature? La Nou heaved a sigh of relief, hazarding a rough guess as to why the other party could appear beside him before he could react.

Coupled with the strange white beams, such a figure was undoubtedly formidable below the demigod level.