303 Sparks of “Fire”
Mummy ashes… Lumian’s mind immediately went to the Highland Mystic Potion shop in Rapus.
The mummies had their origins in the old Highlands Kingdom, and they had a special ancient Highlander term for it. Emperor Roselle translated it into “mummy.”
In simpler terms, the most genuine and ancient mummies could be found in Star Highlands, the largest source of mummy ashes.
Franca grew more and more agitated as she spoke.
“Why do you think men in Trier are so keen on things that enhance their abilities in that area? They even dare to consume mummy ashes! This means that those who genuinely need them can’t afford the real deal!”
“Many women in Trier are interested as well, hoping their husbands and lovers can perform better in bed.” Lumian had read about it and asked Franca curiously, “Does it really work?”
Franca scoffed.
“I can’t see any other effects besides getting sick from using powder made from a specially prepared corpse. Well, its use in mysticism is a different matter.
“Think about it. Trier is now flooded with fake mummy ashes. People are gobbling them up without knowing if they’re authentic!
“There are many herbs with similar effects, but once they are labeled as mummy ashes, the price skyrockets. Who wouldn’t take advantage of that?
“Don’t overestimate the merchants’ conscience. I’ve heard complaints at many mysticism gatherings about people finding dead rats, grinding them into powder, mixing it with herbs, and selling it as mummy ashes.
“When I, um, before I had superpowers and was still struggling, I saw the café owner making fake coffee from chicory. Later, he couldn’t even afford that. He gathered coffee dregs, animal bile, and even brick dust and soot as a substitute. Believe me, if you visit the kitchens of certain restaurants and cafés, you’d want to hang the boss from the gallows. Those escargot shells are reused, picked up from the trash, filled with ingredients, and served to new customers”
Franca continued her rant, expressing her frustration with counterfeit and inferior products hindering her Beyonder career.
After she finished speaking, Lumian asked with certainty, “Have you finished digesting your Witch potion?”
Franca’s emotions returned to normal as she replied smugly, “That was a long time ago. Have you seen me act as a Witch during this period of time?”
Lumian changed the subject thoughtfully.
“You seem to despise the Rose School of Thought for their acts of terror in the Northern Continent. You even mock them for hindering the colonization resistance by the Southern Continent natives. I don’t quite understand your logic. Shouldn’t they resist and take revenge when bullied?”
Franca walked to the window of Lumian’s bedroom and gazed at the dock and depot concealed by buildings. Her gaze was unfocused as she said, “They should—if they wish to seek the adrenaline from exacting vengeance, for a moment of exhilaration. But if you want to lead the Southern Continent to expel the colonists, such actions will only have the opposite effect. A philosopher back home once said that no king should send troops out in anger. Resisting colonization is a serious and challenging matter; it’s something that shouldn’t become a wastebasket for venting one’s emotions.”
Seeing Lumian’s confusion, Franca pointed out the window.
“There are many workers and laborers there. They work hard every day and sleep in bedbug-infested rooms. Are they colonists? Did they benefit from the colonies? True, their jobs may be a result of colonial trade, but will they lose their jobs without the colonies and normal trade? I don’t think so. The most likely possibility is that they will still have a job that barely provides sustenance; it’s the bosses who lose excessive profits.
“They have their own demands and a desire to change the current society. They often join Trier’s citizens in various marches and protests, expressing deep dissatisfaction with the government.
“There are many similar people in Trier. Some of them have various reasons and even sympathize with the Southern Continent colonies.
“A philosopher king back home once said that we must distinguish between our friends and foes when carrying out deeds. The Rose School of Thought’s various terrorist acts will only pit those who sympathize with the colonists and those who are also resisting the government against them. It makes them the object of hatred that will be exploited by the rulers to bridge any internal conflicts. It will harm the people of the Southern Continent’s resistance against colonization.
“The philosopher king even prohibited his intelligence officers from carrying out assassinations or seeking revenge, let alone causing terrorist incidents.”
Franca snapped out of her daze and spoke with enthusiasm, her eyes sparkling, “As long as we can gather more allies, isolate our enemies, and ignite that tiny spark, it can set a whole wilderness ablaze!”
Who is friend and foe… Finding allies and isolating the enemy… Even a tiny spark can set a whole wilderness ablaze… The words left a profound impact on Lumian. He pondered Franca’s words repeatedly, especially her last sentence. It unveiled a new understanding of Pyromaniac, bringing him closer to unveiling his first acting principle.
After a few moments, Lumian nodded solemnly.
“I agree with you now. The Rose School of Thought’s acts of terror are extremely foolish, mere decisions made after their minds are filled with desire. Uh, as believers of the Mother Tree of Desire, it’s quite expected.”
Franca pursed her lips.
“If the Rose School of Thought focused on assassinating colonial generals, members of parliament, and high-ranking government officials, as well as destroying battleships and arsenals, I wouldn’t mock them. But their blood sacrifices, indiscriminately killing people, are the actions of lunatics. I don’t want to become a sacrifice to these madmen one day.”
Lumian remarked, “It’s a classic case of turning sympathizers against each other.”
Franca disdainfully added, “Not only do these lunatics carry out blood sacrifices in the Northern Continent, but they also do it in the Southern Continent, turning villages into uninhabited lands. The Southern Continent has the Rose School of Thought as another insurmountable obstacle besides the colonists.”
Lumian nodded gently and said, “That lady took me to the Star Highlands and during my tour of Star Highlands, I encountered a mummy merchant. Should I request permission to visit again and obtain some real mummy ashes for you?”
That lady… Franca realized something and decided not to press further. After some thought, she said, “No need for that now. Just because Trier has plenty of counterfeit goods doesn’t mean there’s nothing authentic. Let’s try to find the authentic ones first. If not, we’ll go to the Southern Continent.”
Lumian honestly shared his intentions, “I hope you can advance to Sequence 6 within a week and become a Demoness of Pleasure.”
“Huh?” Franca was confused.
Who’s the one making the advancement?
Lumian didn’t hide anything, responding directly, “It has been prophesied that Guillaume Bénet will appear in Quartier de la Princesse Rouge next week. I want to find him and capture him, and I need the help of more friends. The Boss has already agreed to help me find him. The stronger you are, the higher our chances of capturing Guillaume Bénet.”
Amused, Franca teased, “You’re learning on the spot, kid. You really aren’t holding back anymore. You made a request without getting my agreement to help.”
Lumian smiled, replying, “Isn’t that what I’m doing now?”
Franca pondered for a moment before saying, “Wait a few more days. If we still can’t find real mummy’s ashes, we’ll go to the Southern Continent to search for them. Remember, try not to trouble the Major Arcana card holder if possible.”
“Right then,” Lumian said, sharing a similar view, but he never missed a chance to fleece. Otherwise, it would be best to seek Madam Magician’s help in dealing with Guillaume Bénet.
A subordinate who couldn’t handle problems on their own, bothering their superior all the time, would eventually be left behind!
Furthermore, the Tarot Club followed a rule of equivalent exchange. What price would one have to pay to enlist the help of a demigod-level Major Arcana card holder?
After chatting for a while, Franca, who was about to leave, glanced at the window and suddenly said, “Although Gardner Martin already knows the situation and has made preparations, you can’t be careless. You can’t place all your hopes on him. The Rose School of Thought is an ancient secret organization. It must possess various abilities.”
Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden? Lumian was taken aback for a moment before responding with tacit understanding, “The Boss is at least a Conspirer. He has probably set countless traps in secret, awaiting the arrival of the Rose School of Thought.”
On this topic, the two of them continued their conversation as they left the bedroom and entered the corridor.
Franca lowered her voice and said, “I sensed something amiss with the glass in your window. I suspect a Wraith.”
The Rose School of Thought’s Wraith? Franca discovered something wrong with her Witch’s grasp of mirrors? Lumian’s nerves tensed as he nodded slightly, acting as though they were discussing an ordinary topic.
He saw Franca stroll into the café and depart Salle de Bal Brise before stepping out of the corridor. Like always, he settled into his regular seat and savored his aromatic coffee.
An hour went by, and Lumian started to feel a bit more at ease. He thought the Wraith had probably left, so he shifted his focus to Gardner Martin and the potential traps.
The following days were filled with paranoia for Lumian. He sensed eyes on him from the glass window in his room and the bathroom mirror, but nothing alarming occurred.
Finally, the day of the reward promised by Mr. K arrived.
As Lumian descended the stairs of Auberge du Coq Doré, he encountered an unfamiliar woman.
Dressed in a lake-blue dress, her brown hair flowed naturally, and her brown eyes had a uniquely ethereal quality. Her looks were above average, her cheeks plump, and her demeanor stood out from the ordinary.
As Lumian passed by the front desk, he casually asked Madame Fels, “Is that young lady a new tenant?”
The plump Madame Fels smiled ingratiatingly. “No, she’s Miss Safari, staying in Room 309. She went to a small seaside town to be a human model for a painter. She only returned today.
“How enviable. Her job lets her take a vacation by the sea.”
That human model? Lumian nodded and left Auberge du Coq Doré, catching a public carriage to Avenue du Boulevard.
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