333 Gains
Lumian’s smile gradually softened as he watched the Spirit Body writhing and wailing within the flames.
This was one of the ways the padre died as he had predicted.
Certainly, when he initially ignited the Abyss Demon Flowers, transforming the derelict mine within the Bottle of Fiction into a fiery inferno, he hadn’t anticipated Guillaume Bénet’s direct incineration.
During that moment, he had relied on his combat instincts and seasoned experience to create an environment that favored his strengths and mitigated his most vulnerable points. The summoning of the Abyss Demon Flowers by the padre had presented an opportunity.
The anesthetic gas produced by the incineration of the Abyss Demon Flowers wasn’t his intention. His aim was to battle within an infernal hell.
During that period, his remaining spirituality had been scarce. Nonetheless, a Pyromaniac’s resistance to flames significantly outclassed a Fate Appropriator’s. Moreover, this resistance was a physical attribute that didn’t deplete his spirituality.
As the Bottle of Fiction transformed into a blazing inferno, even the very air could scorch the trachea and lungs. Lumian believed he would ultimately prevail. He could outlast Guillaume Bénet, enduring until the flames extinguished themselves due to lack of fuel.
With his grasp of the Inevitability pathway, and in the absence of unforeseen deviations for Sequence 6 Beyonders, Guillaume Bénet’s constitution was merely more robust than that of an ordinary person. His strength lay in his flexibility and tolerance, rather than fire resistance.
Lumian’s observations during the Cordu confrontations validated this point. Both Guillaume Bénet and Pierre Berry, individuals who had clearly progressed beyond Sequence 7, exhibited remarkable combat capabilities, albeit lacking commensurate defensive attributes.
Lumian hadn’t anticipated the padre contracting the Steel Body ability. This ability possessed pros and cons. On the one hand, it thwarted Lumian’s initial plan for an infernal hell. On the other hand, it curtailed the padre’s own capabilities, granting Lumian an opportunity to contend more effectively and unseal the entrance to the Bottle of Fiction. This would permit his accomplice to join the fray and offer assistance. Lumian subsequently exploited Guillaume Bénet’s determination to eliminate unnecessary obstructions by dealing with Franca first. He then improvised, crafting a lethal snare.
Amidst the sizzle of burning air, Guillaume Bénet’s wailing Spirit Body disintegrated swiftly, gradually dissipating.
With the task accomplished, Lumian pivoted, acknowledging Franca and Jenna with a nod, signifying his completion.
In the ensuing instant, he staggered toward the altar, retrieving the skins of cow, sheep, and dog.
These items were whole, exuding a sinister aura upon closer inspection.
These constituted specialized hides, amassed through the initial half of the Animal Creation Spell ritual, harnessed by leveraging Ascetic powers for accumulation. Upon grasping the corresponding incantation and enveloping individuals and oneself with these skins, the Animal Creation Spell could be executed outright.
Although Lumian hadn’t yet deciphered the predetermined incantation for animal creation or its nullification, these obstacles could be surmounted in due course. He could, for instance, detain Paulina, the padre’s butler, and others to determine if they possessed such knowledge. Alternatively, he could engage a Cryptologist of the Marauder pathway to decode the incantation. He could even resort to trial and error, applying his knowledge of the Inevitability domain and his comprehension of Guillaume Bénet’s persona. Last of all, he could use divination to get any clarity on success.
Thus, these two sheepskins, a single cowhide, and two dogskins held considerable value. Employed judiciously, they could unleash unparalleled effects. Guillaume Bénet had nearly beguiled Lumian previously by adopting the guise of a massive, brown-furred dog, attempting to flee Rue Vincent and sever their destined encounter. However, his fanaticism in Inevitability’s boon and his greed due to his contract had overridden reason. This led him to transition from prey to hunter, setting a trap in reverse.
When Lumian’s body began to sway as if he had lost his footing, Franca and Jenna lent their support, each helping him bear a share of the cow, sheep, and dog skins.
In that instant, the Bottle of Fiction quaked.
Stripped of Guillaume Bénet’s reinforcement and subjected to the infernal hellfire for a duration, it eventually fractured akin to ice, its fragments plunging into the void.
The derelict cavern, encompassed by its confinement, unveiled itself to Lumian and his companions through the secret door. All the Abyss Demon Flowers had been reduced to ashes and strewn across the ground. The flames had exhausted their combustibles, and bereft of Lumian’s spirituality, most had dwindled to cinders. Only select regions persisted with a crimson luminescence, which was waning steadily.
Lumian glanced at Franca and said, “I’ll head back to Rue des Blouses Blanches through Underground Trier. Carry the Earth Blood ore as you make your way to the surface.”
Once the Decency brooch was removed, Lumian would inevitably be scorned by those around him. Should he retrace his steps, numerous mishaps could befall him. Alternatively, if he didn’t remove it, an alert would be triggered within two to three minutes, attracting the attention of nearby official Beyonders or concealed factions.
Given the potential complications involved in carrying the Earth Blood ore into the underground, coupled with the possible difficulties Jenna might encounter upon receiving it, Franca nodded, pursing her lips, and turned toward Jenna. “Follow Ciel. He’s at his limit. He might not even stand a chance against a dog.”
“If it’s the same dog as before, I wouldn’t be able to defeat it,” Lumian muttered.
As the exit on the opposite side of the abandoned mine remained unobstructed, a frigid gust swept into the sacrificial hall, dispersing the anesthetic gas with the fragmentation of the Bottle of Fiction. Lumian staggered onward, arriving at the charred remains of Guillaume Bénet.
He kicked the body and turned it over, ensuring nothing was concealed within.
Lumian picked up the iron-gray military alcohol flask and advanced toward the abandoned mine’s exit. There, he noticed a brown-furred dog skin that no longer bore a sinister aura.
This particular area had avoided incineration, leaving the dog skin intact. Nevertheless, the process of reconstituting the Animal Creation Spell ritual was mandatory. Only through the application of an Ascetic’s ability could it regain its status as a Beyonder item.
Beyond the abandoned mine’s exit, two objects were propped against the rocky wall.
One comprised a kerosene-lit lantern, while the other was a dark-green canvas backpack favored by adventurers and mercenaries.
Lumian hoisted the backpack, finding it surprisingly weighty. It was almost too heavy to lift.
Curious, Franca crouched down and unfastened the backpack. Within it lay gratifying gold bars, stacks of banknotes, and golden coins.
“Wow!” Franca exclaimed.
So much money? Lumian’s initial thought was: Thank goodness, the padre didn’t expend all of Aurore’s accrued royalties. This was followed by a rather visceral reaction: F*cking dammit, this man is so sinister!
Evidently, Guillaume Bénet had anticipated the possibility that Paulina and the others might not escape. In such an eventuality, Lumian and his companions could deduce that the padre had chosen an alternate escape route based on the scarce funds carried by these Inevitability believers. Consequently, they would converge on the basement, inadvertently walking into a trap.
“Not too shabby, not at all,” Franca remarked, grinning. “While these heretics might not drop characteristics, they do drop other spoils.”
Indicating upward with her hand, she continued, “I’m heading back up. Pass me this dog skin.”
She relinquished the three ritualistic hides to Jenna and returned to 50 Rue Vincent, clutching Guillaume Bénet’s dog skin.
Jenna slung the dark-green canvas bag over her shoulder, gripping the five sinister hides. She observed as Lumian picked up the lantern and kindled it.
After a few strides through the dim tunnel outside the abandoned mine, Lumian promptly removed the Decency brooch and placed it in another military alcohol flask hanging from his waist, sinking it to the bottom of the liquor.
Lumian took a few more steps before suddenly shuddering. He turned around, glancing at Jenna who was trailing behind.
Jenna, clasping the cow, sheep, and dog skins while toting the canvas bag, bore a somber expression, marked by repugnance. She struggled to speak, her voice faltering, “I-I can control myself. Dammit, I won’t beat you up!”
Though Lumian was skeptical, he had no choice but to continue his journey.
After seven to eight minutes, he encountered an abandoned tunnel and settled into a corner, awaiting the dissipation of the Decency brooch’s adverse effects. He seized the opportunity to rest and recuperate some of his spirituality.
…
The events that transpired at 50 Rue Vincent remained unknown to anyone as Franca methodically erased all evidence and conducted an anti-divination process in the manner befitting a Demoness.
Throughout this endeavor, she combed through every room. Vigilant against potential corruption, she refrained from delving too deeply, though her explorations yielded neither valuable clues nor significant items of interest.
Ultimately, she returned to the parlor on the ground floor, rousing the unconscious impostor Guillaume Bénet.
The imposter Guillaume Bénet gazed at the cloaked figure adorned in a black robe, a brown dog skin clutched within her grasp. For a fleeting moment, he experienced a sensation akin to being trapped within a dream, unable to awaken.
Franca emitted a soft chuckle.
“As you can see, we’ve killed that devil.”
In her eyes, the imposter Guillaume Bénet was no longer identical to the padre. He had become very unfamiliar.
Perhaps this was his true appearance.
“I-I…” The imposter Guillaume Bénet stammered in surprise and elation, “Are you here to aid me?”
“We’re Demon Hunters,” Franca fabricated. “What else can you tell us about this devil?”
Though her Magic Mirror Spirit Channeling Spell enabled Lumian to glean extensive information from Guillaume Bénet, its reach had limitations. It could not cover every facet. Further inquiry into relevant individuals was imperative to avert the risk of overlooking crucial leads.
The imposter Guillaume Bénet found the shrouded woman before him remarkably affable. He contemplated briefly before responding, “Other than engaging in an affair with my wife and indulging in steak and mutton chops, there’s nothing particularly remarkable about that devil.
“Yes… I-it vanishes for one day each week before resurfacing without fanfare.”
Disappearing once a week? Franca acknowledged this detail and pursued further inquiries.
Having exhausted the potential for extracting additional information, she smiled and subtly instigated the imposter Guillaume Bénet.
“If I were in your position, I’d hastily depart this location. Your wife is akin to a devil.
“I would relocate any valuable possessions to regions where my identity remains unknown. I’d purchase a new residence, enter a fresh marriage, and embark on a new chapter.”
Guillaume Bénet’s heartbeat hastened, and his resolve to stand his ground waned.
In the ensuing moment, he observed the woman before him liquefy akin to melting ice.
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