568 Patterns of the “Ancestors”

568 Patterns of the “Ancestors”

Lumian swiveled his head towards the docks, his body seamlessly blending into the shadows beyond the moonlight’s reach.

Following the shadowy path, he smoothly bypassed the guards at the entrance, slipping into the sacred-looking building without a sound.

In the foyer, he came to a sudden halt.

Amidst the dark “fishnets,” he spotted short figures with oddly large heads, bulging eyes, and wrinkled skin – like elders in miniature. Standing just over a meter tall, they were the “Little Devils” mentioned by Juan Oro, a species of sea spawn.

Infiltrating the shadows, these Little Devils patrolled the Governor of the Sea’s residence, using their unique abilities to prevent any unauthorized entry.

Having encountered them before, Lumian knew these Little Devils weren’t formidable opponents. Despite their talent for blending into shadows and creating illusions, he could dispatch a team with ease.

Yet, eliminating them discreetly posed a challenge. Lumian couldn’t be certain that dealing with one group of Little Devils wouldn’t stir up trouble and alert other creatures lurking in the building.

Focused, Lumian surveyed the areas untouched by shadows. In the crimson moonlight, he discerned vague figures drifting in the void, intermittently appearing and disappearing.

These were fish adorned in dark-gray armor, their bulging eyes resembling meatballs at both ends. Starlight-threaded “thin threads” peeked through the gaps in their scale-like armor.

The peculiar fish hovered in the air, scattering across different regions. Occasionally, they released bubbles carrying formless storms and impalement-inducing cracks.

Erupting bubbles created countless invisible spikes, setting perilous traps for teleporting “guests.”

At the hall intersection and various aisles, silent three-man guard teams patrolled. Their expressions betrayed nothing, but Lumian noticed slender black insects, covered in bristles, emerging from their necks and mouths.

After a brief inspection, the Batings Black Insects swiftly retracted into the guards’ bodies.

The eyes of sea creature statues on the wall appeared alive, scanning the areas with a strange awareness.

Just as Juan Oro said, there are a large number of different sea spawn here. Infiltrating silently amidst the diverse sea spawn here proves to be a formidable task. Lumian, patient, opted to remain in the foyer, awaiting the right moment.

In under two minutes, a thunderous bang reverberated from the dock.

Crimson flames shot into the sky, casting an eerie glow on nearby windows, making them quiver.

Little Devils lurking in the shadows, Armored Monster Fish manipulating the surrounding void, Batings Black Insects orchestrating guards, and peculiar creatures concealed in the statues’ eyes—all instinctively shifted their focus to the glass window near the dock.

Lumian sprang into action.

He orchestrated the disturbance with a delayed explosion!

Seizing the opportunity, he stealthily navigated through the shadows surrounding the Little Devils and skirted the region patrolled by the Armored Monster Fish.

Before other sea spawn could react, he pinpointed the room at the far end of the hall, relying on Juan Oro’s intel.

A dim light emitted from the black mark on his right shoulder as he swiftly reached the door of the target room. In a blink, he transformed into a shadow, slipping through the crack.

Inside, Lumian discovered intricate patterns and symbols etched on the floor, ceiling, and walls, reminiscent of magnified versions of Juan Oro’s hand-

drawn sacrificial ring pattern.

Besides that, nothing else caught his eye.

Lumian deduced, During the vigil ritual, some sea spawn enter this place, condense the patterns from every direction, and carve them into the ring mold. Then, they infuse them with special energy. Quickly scanning the area, he stepped out of the shadows, activating a black mark on his chest.

Nearly invisible water ripples danced on the surrounding walls, then subsided.

Bottle of Fiction!

Lumian “enclosed” the two connected rooms into the Bottle of Fiction. The entry requirement: ordinary humans.

He positioned himself near the opening of the Bottle of Fiction, deliberately creating loud footsteps as he hid by the door.

Almost instantly, certain sea spawn picked up on the disturbance.

Recalling the explosion at the docks and the towering flames, they realized they had fallen into a diversion.

Summoning the Armored Monster Fish, Batings Black Insects, Little Devils, and their cohorts, they ordered an investigation into the ring-making ritual venue for potential infiltrators.

Despite attempts to rush in through the door, the sea spawn inexplicably found themselves back in the hall.

The Armored Monster Fish, discerning the issue, released bubbles with a formless storm toward the entrance of the Bottle of Fiction.

As before they surged towards him, aiming to breach the room, Lumian, now a shadow creature, slipped through the crack at the base of the wooden door, quietly exiting the Bottle of Fiction and returning to the hall.

His ploy successfully diverted the sea spawn’s attention, creating a chance for him to change positions.

Naturally, he needed to employ effective tactics a few more times!

Anticipating the enemy’s disbelief in encountering the same trick repeatedly within a short span, Lumian knew they would assume there were alternative plans.

Of course, on the third attempt, heightened vigilance would set in. Everything they saw would seem like a distraction. When the moment arrived, Lumian could flip the strategy.

Seizing the moment when the sea spawn fixated on the Bottle of Fiction, Lumian deftly avoided the gathering of Little Devils. He circled the Armored Monster Fish, reaching a corner of the hall, and once again utilized Spirit World Traversal.

This time, Lumian’s destination was the staircase leading to the basement.

The guards, lured into the hall, left the area unmonitored.

As Lumian’s silhouette appeared at the staircase entrance, he swiftly transformed into a shadow, slipping into the basement through the darkness.

No guards or sea spawn patrolled this seemingly unimportant area, an area that was merely a testament to the villagers of Milo Village’s reverence for their ancestors.

In his shadow creature form, Lumian possessed “natural” night vision. Even without a fireball, he could vaguely discern the dark basement.

Despite its dampness due to proximity to the sea, the absence of a moldy odor was thanks to the various Beyonder powers within the building.

At the center stood a decrepit stone platform, reminiscent of an altar for ancestor worship. Surrounding it were signs of destruction, leaving only disjointed lines, arcs, and indistinct patterns.

Do these fragmented symbols and patterns constitute the coat of arms of Milo Village’s ancestors? Or do they possess mystical effects? Lumian scrutinized them repeatedly, struggling to reconstruct the undamaged version in his mind.

Yet, he sensed that since Noelia of the Fertility Order had alluded to the revealing nature of these symbols and patterns, he might extract valuable information.

What kind of information could it be? Maintaining his shadow creature form, Lumian extended into the darkness, surveying his surroundings.

Frowning, he whispered, Could it be that the Church of Earth Mother, fully capable of obliterating this place, deliberately left traces? Does this imply that the sea prayer ritual holds some influence over them too?

Lumian directed his gaze at the stone platform, the sacrificial offering to the ancestors, recalling Juan Oro’s details about the ring-making ritual.

After crafting the Ring of the Sea Queen, it would rest here for an hour as a mark of respect to their ancestors.

Was it placed on this partially collapsed altar? Approaching the grayish-black stone platform, Lumian observed no dust accumulation. All remaining lines converged on an empty space at the center of the circle.

His heart stirred as he retrieved a Louis d’or, placing it in the center of the altar.

Nothing happened.

Undeterred, Lumian replaced the Louis d’or with gold risot, Mystery Prying Glasses, Flog boxing gloves, and various other items.

Yet, still no anomaly.

Persistence drove him. Lumian pulled out the silver Lie earring from his pocket and positioned it on an empty space on the stone platform.

In the next moment, a surreal sensation enveloped Lumian.

Within the stone platform, illusory lines and arcs materialized, intertwining with remnants to form two distinct patterns:

One pattern featured layers of doors sketched with simple strokes, while the other resembled a clock divided into twelve sectors, albeit having a single hand.

Lumian observed keenly, sensing something adhering to the Lie earring.

In an instant, the lines from the stone platform dimmed, retracted, and returned to their original positions. Normalcy resumed.

Are these the patterns representing Milo Village’s ancestors? Or did they gain knowledge from the initial revelations? Lumian sensed sea spawn surging toward the basement. After muttering to himself, he seized the Lie earring and “teleported” away.

…

In the master bedroom of the suite at Solow Motel.

As Lumian’s figure manifested, he settled down and began writing to Madam Magician. Unfazed by checking the changes in the Lie earring, he intended to send it to his Major Arcana card holder for inspection.

Recreating the patterns, symbols, structure, and various scenes from the Governor of the Sea’s residence, Lumian neatly folded several letters, arranged a ritual, and summoned the “doll” messenger.

Then, he patiently awaited the reply.