261 Escape
The branches and vines pursuing Lumian swiftly withdrew, as if responding to an unseen command. A javelin-like tree trunk crashed down, causing the rest to vanish into thin air.
Gasping for breath, Lumian cast his gaze upward as he sprinted onward.
At that moment, his eyes fell upon the incinerated form of Susanna Mattise, consumed by the vegetative sphere that had enveloped her. Not far off, he witnessed an unfamiliar tree trunk snap and succumb to fiery destruction.
She’s dead! Relief flooded Lumian’s being. She’s dead! The burden of his struggle lifted, and he crumpled to the ground, no longer able to hold on.
The crimson flames that had enveloped him abruptly extinguished, unveiling his charred and disfigured body.
With great effort, Lumian struggled to prop himself up, his back pressed against the vine- and branch-adorned wall of the Auberge du Coq Doré. He resembled a forsaken vagabond, abandoned by the world, a hint of derision in his voice as he observed the Tree of Shadow sinking deeper and deeper into the earth.
Moreover, he witnessed the vines and branches retracting into the main trunk, the once-suspended individuals released from their tethers and descending to the ground from varying heights.
Among the initial group of victims, whose essence had been drained, three to four individuals remained suspended nearly three meters above the ground. Already weakened, most of their remaining vitality escaped as they suffered the harsh impact, causing them to lose consciousness on the spot. Perhaps there was still hope for their salvation, or perhaps they were beyond rescue.
The hundreds who had been suspended but had not yet lost a significant portion of their essence sustained various injuries from the fall. Though their lives were not immediately endangered, they hurriedly rose to their feet, driven to escape to the fringes of the wilderness.
Gabriel’s complexion turned pale, bruises marring his hands and feet. Rather than fleeing, his initial instinct led him to stoop and collect the scattered Lightseeker script from the ground. The eloping couple, entwined together in their suspension, exchanged curses for being a hindrance, but they supported one another as they limped forward, their legs injured from the fall. They joined the fleeing throng, vanishing into the distance. Pavard Neeson, the proprietor of the clandestine underground bar, suffered relatively minor injuries. Grasping the freshly drawn draft, he raced ahead…
Charred and weary, Lumian settled on the street, leaning against the Auberge du Coq Doré, situated perilously close to the Tree of Shadow. Tilting his head back against the wall, he wore a faint smile while observing the energetic exodus of peddlers, passersby, and inhabitants of modest abodes as they fled towards the outskirts of the wilderness.
…
Within the confines of the Tree of Shadow, Lady Moon beheld a tumultuous clash unfolding, with numerous angels and saints joining the fray. Her faction faced mounting pressure due to reinforcements from the two Churches and Bureau 8. An overwhelming sense of retreat washed over her.
Should this continue, the two Churches might resort to drastic measures, beseeching divine intervention! Lady Moon swiftly resolved.
Deprived of several abilities and ensnared by various Prohibitions, she pressed against the bulge in her abdomen and parted her lips.
An ear-piercing Shriek erupted within this alternate realm, causing the nearly two-meter-tall Tree of Shadow before her to undergo an instantaneous metamorphosis.
Upon the branches and mist-shrouded bark, which depicted scenes from the past, figures born from diverse desires, now lifeless, sprang back to existence, save for Emperor Roselle.
Many were demigods, emerging from their respective “histories” with vacant, icy expressions and an aura of chilling darkness.
Resurrection!
Empowered by the Divine Fetus nestled within her womb and the unique essence of the Tree of Shadow, Lady Moon temporarily revived the accumulated desires from over a millennium in their original corporeal forms.
Though the revival would be short-lived, and the resurrected beings notably weaker than before, the sudden influx of demigods into the battle within mere seconds could profoundly impact the unfolding chaos.
It was precisely due to the timely aid of the Divine Fetus that Lady Moon dared to linger behind, partaking in this tumultuous clash. Without it, having only agreed to provide cover and hindrance to those from the Bliss Society, she would have already sought refuge elsewhere.
In eerie silence, the resurrected phantoms disintegrated beneath the scorching sunlight. Lady Moon seized the opportune moment to summon Paramita, which had not yet fallen into complete disarray, merging with it and vanishing from sight.
…
On Avenue du Marché, inside the khaki-colored four-story building that housed the parliament member’s office.
Imre, the mixed-blood individual, refrained from immediately questioning Jenna, an assassin. Instead, he directed two agents from Bureau 7 to tend to Jenna’s wound, staunching the profuse bleeding and applying bandages. He conveyed the impression that allowing the culprit to succumb to her injuries would hinder their ability to gather crucial clues. Valentine, Antoine, and the other agents observed and interrogated the remaining participants of the banquet, including Cassandra and Rh?ne, who belonged to Greg Artois’s team.
Rumble!
Once again, the ground beneath their feet trembled. Those near the windows caught glimpses of Rue Anarchie, Rue du Rossignol, and Rue des Blouses Blanches, intermittently flickering with light. Approaching them were clergymen garbed in white robes embellished with golden threads, wielding various contraptions.
This development disrupted the interrogation of Imre, Valentine, and the others. After a while, Angoulême de Fran?ois strode into the banquet hall, clad in a coat adorned with golden buttons, accompanied by a grayish-white humanoid mechanical creation. Several additional team members and a contingent of police officers followed suit.
Upon hearing Imre’s report, Angoulême cast a glance at Jenna and instructed Travis Everett, “Bring all the attendees of the banquet to headquarters for separate interrogations.
“Leave the assassin here. We shall handle her questioning. Hmm… also keep the members of Monsieur Member of Parliament’s team. There are matters we must clarify.”
Everett raised no objections. The organization’s constables escorted the anxious onlookers away from the khaki-colored building housing the member of parliament’s office.
As the hall emptied, Angoulême turned to the two Bureau 7 agents standing beside Jenna and instructed them, “Escort the assassin to the lounge. We must ensure she does not overhear our conversation and withhold any truths.”
With Jenna escorted to the lounge facing the back alley, Angoulême approached Cassandra, Rh?ne, and the others, speaking in a deep voice, “Hi there, there is information we must acquire.”
A faint smile adorned his face.
“Indeed, Monsieur Member of Parliament has met his demise. According to the law, his position is immediately vacated.
“In other words, you are no longer part of Monsieur Member of Parliament’s team. The immunity you once enjoyed is no more.
“So, before we engage in our discussion, let us proceed with some notarizations.”
Upon hearing Angoulême’s words, Cassandra and the others’ expressions underwent a marked change.
Meanwhile, in the lounge, Jenna, who had calmed herself after assassinating Hugues Artois, heard a tumultuous commotion emanating from the hall.
One of the armed agents from Bureau 7, tasked with keeping watch, hastened to the door to investigate.
Seizing the opportunity, Jenna’s heart skipped a beat as a plan materialized in her mind.
Her countenance transformed, and she gazed past her remaining guard with a mix of surprise and fear.
Though extensively trained, the agent possessed an understanding beyond that of ordinary individuals. Today, an abnormal occurrence had unfolded on Rue Anarchie, culminating in the assassination of Monsieur Member of Parliament. Reports indicated a battle involving supernatural forces transpiring within the hall. It was only natural for him to worry about potential repercussions reaching the lounge and an unseen threat lurking behind him.
Subconsciously, he entertained the notion of turning around, but halfway through the motion, caution compelled him to remain vigilant.
Yet, this proved to be the only opening Jenna needed.
Already restrained by handcuffs, she balled her fists and struck the agent’s shoulder and neck with force, sending him sprawling to the ground. His revolver slipped from his grasp.
Before the agent near the door could react, Jenna positioned her hands on the windowsill, propelling herself upward. She crashed through the glass and descended into the back alley with the grace of a feather.
Suppressing the pain from her gunshot wound, she sought refuge in the shadows of a nearby corner and swiftly departed the khaki-colored building.
…
Lady Moon weaved through different directions, employing various abilities until she finally emerged from Paramita.
At that moment, she found herself in Quartier éraste, northwest of Trier. Before her stood a magnificent building adorned with golden steeples.
Lady Moon cautiously surveyed her surroundings and discreetly let out a sigh of relief.
Had the Tree of Shadow’s deeper intrusion into the Fourth Epoch’s Trier served the Great Mother’s interests, she wouldn’t have joined the Bliss Society’s mission. She had no desire to reveal herself. It was well-known that those who controlled desires often fell prey to their own desires. The chances of failure were not insignificant.
Without delay, Lady Moon slipped into the beige building from its side entrance.
A few hundred meters away, a golden retriever sat silently beside a woman dressed in green.
They observed Lady Moon’s every move and the grand structure with its numerous steeples, their expressions solemn.
It was the Sacred Heart Cloister of the Eternal Blazing Sun Church.
…
In the wilderness where Rue Anarchie, Rue du Rossignol, and the buildings on Rue des Blouses Blanches crumbled, Lumian witnessed the Tree of Shadow on the brink of sinking into the ground. He couldn’t help but taunt Termiboros.
“Well, I’m not that unlucky after all. I’ve actually succeeded.”
Hardly had the words left his lips when Franca, who had regained her senses, rushed over and hissed, “Are you trying to play the role of a charred corpse?”
As she spoke, she retrieved the Healing Agent she had obtained from the Poison Spur Mob, intending to offer Lumian half a canister.
Lumian’s injuries weren’t as severe as they seemed. Fatal burns for most Low-Sequence Beyonders would require no more than a month or two for Pyromaniacs to recover from. As for fractures, explosions, and impacts, none of them could claim the life of a Hunter immediately. Enduring until tomorrow would naturally bring about recovery.
Considering the potential pursuit of official Beyonders after the wilderness completely vanished, Lumian didn’t tempt fate and consumed half a vial.
Soon, he felt his body rapidly regenerating.
At this moment, the wilderness teetered on the edge of collapse. The streets had returned to their original positions, and many people had already rushed in.
Franca surveyed her surroundings and spoke swiftly, “Can you still move? We must leave this place swiftly.”
“Alright.” Lumian rose to his feet.
He took a couple of steps to the side, intending to retrieve the charred tree trunk that had been part of the Tree of Shadow before departing.
Just as Lumian grasped the trunk, something caught his peripheral vision.
Within the depression left behind by the Tree of Shadow’s submersion, a hazy and translucent creature darted past.
Lumian’s pupils dilated, struggling to believe what he had witnessed. He yearned for a clearer view.
It was a diaphanous, indistinct figure resembling a lizard!
It bore an uncanny resemblance to the elf he had encountered in his dream!
It was the very creature that had emerged from Aurore’s mouth!
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