286 Magic Mirror Divination
Ignoring Lumian’s tense state, Olson spoke in a deep, raspy voice, “As per tradition, I must speak to you in private as Supervisor.”
Lumian let out a relieved breath. “About what?”
Olson placed the brown suitcase beside his left leg.
“If you discover anything suspicious about your Commanding Officer, Gardner Martin, or any abnormal occurrences, report them to me immediately.”
That’s only right. A spot will be vacated only if something happens to the Boss… Lumian thought silently with a hint of mockery before asking, “How do I contact you?”
Olson looked into Lumian’s eyes and said, “Leave the information in the basement of 13 Avenue du Marché.”
13 Avenue du Marché… The Iron and Blood Cross Order is indeed linked to the burned-down building… Olson might have entered Fourth Epoch Trier and is likely seriously corrupted. Does he have a way to exploit the anomaly at 13 Avenue du Marché? Lumian recalled the previous night and felt that Supervisor Olson was even more mysterious than Commanding Officer Gardner Martin.
He suspected that Olson was secretly monitoring his movements at 13 Avenue du Marché. Gardner Martin was clearly unwilling to enter unless necessary.
Combined with the burning of 13 Avenue du Marché over a decade ago, Mr. K had mentioned that the Iron and Blood Cross Order had drifted from the other organizations that believed in that entity in recent years. Madam Magician had mentioned that the current vigil ritual wasn’t the Iron and Blood Cross Order’s usual test. Lumian vaguely formulated an incomplete sequence of events in his mind.
He believed that 13 Avenue du Marché hadn’t been burned down by the Iron and Blood Cross Order. However, they had subsequently discovered the secret there and suffered the corresponding corruption, evoking an abnormality.
Of course, it could be the other way around: perhaps some members of the Iron and Blood Cross Order had been corrupted elsewhere, allowing them to grasp the anomaly at 13 Avenue du Marché.
“Alright.” Lumian nodded in agreement.
As Lumian’s mind raced with questions, he turned to Supervisor Olson, a look of puzzlement on his face.
“Was the trader I saw in the Albert Mines really you? Can your head leave your body and survive autonomously? Or was that an illusion you created?”
Olson let out a husky chuckle before responding, “Coincidentally, as Supervisor, I have three things to tell you. Firstly, what the eyes see may not be true. Secondly, we will eventually enter the Fourth Epoch’s Trier. It is an inevitability. And thirdly, don’t readily trust in the words of others.”
Don’t readily trust in the words of others… Interesting. Should I believe your first point? What I saw in the Albert Mines was actually real? Heh heh, it’s fine to talk about inevitability in front of me, but will Termiboros tolerate it? Lumian pondered, resisting the urge to place his right hand on his left chest.
Seeing Olson pick up the small brown suitcase again, Lumian couldn’t help but ask,
“What’s in there? Why do you keep carrying it?”
Olson smiled.
“If I were you, I’d pray I never find out the answer.”
With that, Supervisor Olson opened the carriage door and leaped into the darkness, disappearing instantly, without intentionally concealing himself as he had done when he first arrived.
“Acting all mysterious…” Lumian muttered under his breath.
Taking the carriage back to the bustling market district, he resisted the urge to hurry to Auberge du Coq Doré or the safe house on Rue des Blouses Blanches to contact Madam Magician’s messenger and report his official admission into the Iron and Blood Cross Order. Instead, he made his way to Salle de Bal Brise.
His concern grew as he suspected that the treacherous members of the Iron and Blood Cross Order might be taking advantage of his relaxed state to continue their final, clandestine surveillance.
Although they couldn’t locate Madam Magician’s messenger, Lumian knew better than to return to Room 207 or the safe house at this time; it would surely raise suspicions.
Taking a seat at the bar counter, Lumian ordered a glass of Kirsch. As he savored the drink, he immersed himself in the lively song and dance happening on the stage.
Jenna had the night off, and the performers tonight were two other Showy Divas and a male underground singer known for his high-energy songs.
…
Hill District, outside the Deep Valley Cloister.
Wearing a silver-white half-mask, Jenna regarded Franca, who had donned an assassin’s outfit, with concern.
“What are we going to do tonight?
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of infiltrating the cloister for an investigation?”
“Of course not!” Franca denied vehemently. “The Deep Valley Cloister is one of the most well-known cloisters of the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery. They have powerful Beyonders and hide mysterious artifacts crafted by Artisan monks. With our abilities, we’d only be walking into a trap… or worse.”
Franca couldn’t help her mind from wandering.
She had heard rumors that though the monks in the cloister were focused on steam and machinery and didn’t marry or have children, it didn’t mean they refrained from sex with others.
The Church of the God of Steam and Machinery didn’t prohibit such interactions!
Some said that some monks would seek out street girls from time to time to relax, while others engaged in affairs with colleagues or men who sold their bodies.
There were still a large number of people who had mechanical fetishes or were truly undergoing ascetic training, capable of controlling themselves.
Of course, Trieriens tended to exaggerate and embellish these rumors with their own ideas. It likely strayed far from the truth. Franca didn’t entirely believe it, but she couldn’t dismiss it entirely either.
She believed that some monks might have such inclinations, but they were likely not the majority. Nonetheless, infiltrating a cloister as a wild Beyonder was dangerous. They could be accidentally killed by machinery, used as experimental subjects, or become playthings for a select few monks. The chances of success were slim.
In short, whether male or female, anyone below Sequence 4 or lacking enough confidence ought to forget about infiltrating the Deep Valley Cloister.
Behind her hood, Franca smiled and explained in a good mood, “We scoured the area today, but found no clues. But there’s one place we haven’t checked.”
Jenna thought for a moment and asked, “That Deep Valley Quarry?”
“That’s right,” Franca affirmed with a grin. “Tonight, we’ll infiltrate it and conduct a search.”
In truth, she didn’t expect they would find anything since the official Beyonders had likely completed their investigations. Franca wanted to guide Jenna through the process and acquaint her with such matters.
“Okay.” Jenna nodded slightly.
Franca saw this as an opportunity to instruct her, “Before we officially infiltrate, there’s some preparatory work we must do.”
“For Assassins, it’s about familiarizing themselves with the environment, gathering information, and observing locations and routes. As for Witches, they must perform divinations beforehand.”
With that, Franca took out a palm-sized mirror she always carried.
Jenna immediately focused.
She had long been intrigued by mirror-related Witch abilities.
Previously, after she assassinated Hugues Artois and fled to Auberge du Coq Doré, Franca heard that she had left blood at the scene. Franca had swiftly used Mirror Substitution to sever the mystical connection between Jenna’s true self and the spilled blood.
Franca surveyed the area and spoke in hushed tones under the cover of evening shadows.
“When you become a Witch, you’ll naturally master Magic Mirror Divination and Staff Divination. Learning other divination methods is easy for Witches.
“The key to successful Magic Mirror Divination is choosing the right entity to pray to. The mystical symbol of the mirror connects you to an unknown being, and their answers can be obtained through this connection. However, if the unknown entity holds malice or is in a state of madness, they may influence the divination or provide a result that traps you, putting you in danger.
“When the time comes, I’ll give you a few relatively safe entities to pray to. These have been verified. Among them, the one with the most accurate divination results will require you to pay a corresponding price. Unless the matter is extremely critical and urgent, I usually avoid praying to him.”
“What price?” Jenna’s curiosity was piqued.
Franca cleared her throat awkwardly and said, “The price could lead to you experiencing social embarrassment or something not as severe, but it will certainly be uncomfortable.”
She recalled the first time she prayed to that entity for Magic Mirror Divination. In front of Madam Judgment, she was asked, “When you’re masturbating, do you occasionally fantasize about certain men and feel tempted to try new experiences?”
That question almost made her shatter the intermediary mirror. At the time, she had recently become a Witch and still identified fully as a man, even though her body had already transformed into a woman’s. It was natural that she would occasionally fantasize, but this revelation made her feel guilty and ashamed. Yet, she was forced to answer honestly in front of a demigod.
Even now, Franca couldn’t help but cringe at the memory, wanting to bury her head in the sand and avoid any recollection.
What was social death? This was it!
Franca believed that this incident had affected her when she subsequently approached Gardner Martin to give it a shot. This caused a crack in her psychological defense and make her give up on herself.
Embarrassment… Social death… Jenna understood the implication behind Franca’s words. Though Jenna had her thoughts, she chose not to voice them aloud.
Franca provided a brief explanation of Magic Mirror Divination, concluding with a demonstration. She gently caressed the surface of the mirror and recited the name of a safe entity.
As an aqueous light shimmered in the mirror, she posed a serious question, “Will exploring Trier’s Deep Valley Quarry tonight be dangerous?”
Since it was a question-based divination, the requirements for the statements weren’t too stringent.
Under Jenna’s curious and hopeful gaze, a deep, old voice emanated from the mirror, as if it had emerged from the depths of a river. “There is a certain level of danger.”
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