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n752 In the Darkness

n752 In the Darkness

nDammit!

nThough Lumian had toyed with the idea of taking risks, he hadn’t truly made up his mind.

nThe sudden extinguishing of his white candle prompted him to swear under his breath, instinctively preparing to activate the black mark on his shoulder and teleport out of the catacombs.

nAt that moment, a bone-chilling cold tinged with slight pain surged through the palm of his right hand.

nThis snap of pain brought him to his senses, thankfully without any further unpleasant changes to his body.

nIndeed… Lumian instantly calmed down, abandoning the idea of using his Spirit World Traversal ability.

nHis suspicions were confirmed!

nHe clenched his right hand discreetly, ensuring the prominently-marked Underworld Daoist seal wasn’t visible to anything lurking in the darkness.

nAfter the elderly, decaying, and clearly unwell catacombs administrator mistook him for a kindred spirit, Lumian suspected it was due to the Underworld Daoist seal.

nGiven that the Samaritan Women’s Spring was closely related to the Underworld Daoist and the catacombs of Trier were likely built to contain its overflowing influence, the administrators took turns guarding the massive tomb chamber leading to the spring.

nSince catacombs administrators affected by anomalies could navigate the dark catacombs without a lit white candle and not disappear, theoretically, he should be able to as well, given his Underworld Daoist seal!

nOf course, this was extremely risky. A wrong guess could mean dying without leaving a trace, causing Lumian to hesitate despite his wild impulse.

nIn the pure darkness, where his eyes saw nothing, Lumian felt as if he were in Trier’s subterranean river, immersed in cold, damp, heavy, and silent waters.

nYet, he breathed easily; his body and soul strangely drawing air from the dense, dark “waters,” sustaining his existence.

nHe seemed like a fish in the deep sea.

nThe darkness, like flowing water, layered and pressed down, isolating this space from the surrounding areas and the outside world.

nThe next moment, Lumian heard the old administrator’s raspy, indifferent voice.

n“Recently, three people tried to approach the spring, but I stopped them.”

nThree people… Lumian’s spirit lifted as he asked, “Who were they?”

n“One time it was a Blessed of darkness and death with a Hunter,” the old administrator described in his own way.

nA Blessed of darkness and death with a Hunter.. Isn’t that Madame Hela and me? You still remember us… Lumian realized, followed by muttered criticisms.

nHe had thought this elderly administrator, unlike the more active ones like Kendall and nearing a corpse-like state, didn’t recognize people by sight but by sensing their presence— Lumian had encountered two catacombs administrators guiding visitors when he arrived at the Entrance to the Old Ossuary, and they didn’t see him as one of their own. Instead, they advised him not to wander alone and always keep a white candle burning for light.

n“Who was the third?” Lumian pressed on.

nWas it Harrison, or Monette, the incarnation of Amon active in these subterranean catacombs?

nThe old catacombs administrator responded in a monotone, husky voice, “An outsider, he felt similar to us but also different, so I stopped him.”

nSimilar yet different… an outsider… Lumian pondered these key descriptions and surmised it was probably Harrison from Resurrection Island!

n“What did he look like?” Lumian asked, controlling his emotions, seemingly calm.

nHe couldn’t see through the darkness, not even the outline of the old administrator, but he sensed the other was right in front of him, no more than two meters away.

nHe then heard the old administrator reply: “I’ve been an administrator for so long, I’ve forgotten many things. Even death itself vanishes here, let alone our memories. I can’t remember what he looked like, only that he didn’t resemble an Intisian, nor a Loenese or Feysacian.”

nAfter a brief pause, the catacombs administrator continued in his flat tone, “I should go back to rest now…”

nLumian did not try to stop him, nor did he ask further questions.

nAlthough he hadn’t heard any footsteps, nor sensed any movement ahead, a very clear thought suddenly struck him: The person has already left.

nHe didn’t look like an Intisian, a Loenese, or a Feysacian… An outsider… Someone who had been to the fourth level of the catacombs in recent months… Lumian replayed thecatacombs administrator’s responses in his mind over and over.

nSuddenly, he remembered something: Franca had mentioned that she encountered a man in the catacombs who she suspected came from the world of the Celestial Master—the world they had transmigrated from. Her judgment was based on the man’s appearance, which closely resembled the people from that world and was distinctly different from those of the Intisians, Loenese, Feynapotterians, and Feysacians!

nSo, the person Franca met was the one the elderly administrator persuaded to leave? And

nthat person could very well be Harrison from Resurrection Island…

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/s Resurrection Island actually a node where two worlds converge?

nThe reason the nautical chart leading to Resurrection Island is incorrect is because it lacks mystical details; even if one reaches the designated sea area, only danger is encountered, with no sight of the goal?

nThis would nicely explain Franca’s divination result that the “chart is genuine” and why adventurers have failed to locate Resurrection Island. The charts are indeed accurate, but they don’t record the method to open the “Island’s Door”!

nIf this is the case, there should be a deeper explanation for why Franca and the others were transmigrated, and for the purpose of the Resurrection Islanders appearing on the North and South Continents…

nThe good thing now is, Franca has seen someone who might be Harrison and has drawn a corresponding portrait through a ritual, which will help us in our future search.

nHeh heh, Franca and Jenna’s exploration yielded quite a lot of crucial information about many important matters, filled with a sense of being arranged.

nThis might not have been that entity’s doing, but it’s highly likely related to Monette, who often haunts this place…

nLumian was particularly puzzled about why the True Creator or Amon valued this matter so much. Their previous “help” was mainly about combating the evil gods beyond the barrier and didn’t involve issues from another world.

nHmm, would that Celestial Worthy be counted as one of the evil gods beyond the barrier?

nDoes He come from the Celestial Master’s world?

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/s this also considered a part of the evil gods’ invasion?”

nLumian speculated briefly before pondering another question: Whether to inform Franca, 007, Madame Hela, and other members of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society about this.

nLumian could already picture what would happen: Including Franca, some members of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society would desperately set out to sea, searching for Resurrection Island marked on the sea chart, failing to find the island, but finding it being even more dangerous!

nBut Lumian preferred to see Franca remain as she was: conflicted about her gender but generally happy.

nAfter a moment of silence, Lumian laughed a bit out of character, whispering self-mockingly in the environment like the dark depths of the sea, “Would you avoid seeking a way to resurrect Aurore because of danger and others’ expectations?

n“Would you give up resisting because of danger and others’ expectations?

n“Would you refuse to merge with the bloodline of Omebella because of danger and others’ expectations?

n“No!”

nLumian made up his mind and began to focus on his surroundings.

nHe couldn’t see anything but faintly sensed figures wandering in the darkness, felt hands reaching out to him, grabbing his arms, ankles, neck, and body, yet not having any tangible effect.

nNo, there was one thing—Lumian felt distinctly colder, to the point where, with the physical traits of a Reaper, he almost couldn’t help but constrict his pores and shiver lightly.

nHe also heard faint, painful, despairing cries but couldn’t discern their specific directions.

nAre these the people who vanished in the catacombs before? Lumian tried to listen closely, to find one or two of the missing, to understand their current state, but it was to no avail.

nSuddenly, he shivered.

nThe cold and the dead silence seeped into his mind.

nHis thoughts became slightly sluggish, and his memories of certain things grew a bit fuzzy.

nThe Underworld Daoists seal just prevents me from disappearing on the spot, from even dying without a trace, but it can’t stop me from being slowly eroded by the abnormalities here, like those catacombs administrators? And, my erosion is clearly faster than theirs…

nLumian snapped a flame into existence, lighting the white candle in his hand.

nThe darkness, cold, weight, silence, and dampness retreated as the light spread.

nLumian glanced at the candle in his hand, nodding and muttering to himself, “I just interpreted the Underworld Daoist’s seal as a kind of alternative white candlelight, but now it seems, they’re not the same, fundamentally different. One stems from an anomaly being sealed, the other leverages the power sealing this place?”

nAs thoughts swirled, Lumian, holding the burning white candle, made his way back along the original route.

nUpon returning to the Entrance of the Old Ossuary, he saw that the few university students who had been there were gone.

n“Scared off, just like that?” Lumian scoffed softly, leisurely leaving the catacombs and returning to Place du Purgatoire.

nIn the Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative, Apartment 702 on 9 Rue Orosai.

nFranca, who was about to go out to gather information on the Mirror People, saw Lumian again.

n“You’re here again? It’s the third time today!” the Demoness of Pleasure asked, her lips twitching slightly.

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