347 Strange Theft
Looking at the open iron cabinet, Lumian found it absurd and surreal.
The thief had entered the house without taking the most valuable Flog boxing glove, nor did they flip through Aurore’s grimoires to see if there were any banknotes inside. They had only taken a mineral specimen that didn’t look like a gem at all.
Disregarding the traps, if the thief were truly a Marauder with Beyonder powers, he wouldn’t have given up on the boxing gloves made of unique materials and capable of powerful abilities. If he were just an ordinary thief, he wouldn’t have just taken the Earth Blood ore. He might have even casually thrown the seemingly worthless item to the ground.
All of this led Lumian to suspect that the thieving intruder had only one motive: take away the Earth Blood ore!
The other party clearly knew what was special about the mineral specimen and was attempting to exploit it!
“Termiboros, who stole the Earth Blood ore?” Lumian couldn’t identify any suspect no matter how hard he thought.
Apart from dealing with Guillaume Bénet a few days ago when he retrieved the Earth Blood ore and handed it to Franca, he kept the mineral specimen in the safe house. He never carried it with him to avoid being targeted.
Of course, the thief might have divined or prophesied to narrow down the area. He searched every room and finally found the target item.
Termiboros’s magnificent voice suddenly resounded.
“I don’t know.”
Don’t know… Lumian was alarmed.
This answer was meaningless, but coming from Termiboros meant many things.
While Termiboros, sealed within Lumian’s body, couldn’t exert any direct power, his angelic nature granted Him unique insights. As an angel of the Inevitability domain, He possessed an uncanny ability to detect problems and traces that eluded many Low-Sequence Beyonders through Low-Sequence Beyonders’s eyes and fate.
But now, He claimed ignorance!
This revelation carried significant weight, suggesting that whoever had stolen the Earth Blood ore was no ordinary individual. It hinted at the involvement of a high-level power, possibly tied to a secret organization or cult.
Hiss, I have to write a letter and inform Madam Magician about this. After all, she once predicted that the Earth Blood ore would bring me some misfortune. However, the item is lost before the misfortune arrived… Lumian had initially hesitated to burden his Major Arcana card holder with this matter, as he didn’t attach much value to the mineral specimen. Its applications were limited, and its loss seemed inconsequential. However, with the situation taking a bizarre turn, he couldn’t simply dismiss it.
In the world of mysticism, negligence often led to painful lessons.
Truth be told, Lumian didn’t harbor anger over the loss of his possession, nor did he feel compelled to retrieve it. Though the Earth Blood ore might lead to fortuitous encounters, it remained an abstract concept, difficult to quantify or cherish.
Moreover, Madam Magician’s warning of potential misfortune made him view its loss as a means to mitigate risk.
Lumian meticulously inspected the safe house once more, confirming that none of the traps had been triggered. Only the Earth Blood ore had vanished. He settled down to compose a letter.
This time, the summoned puppet messenger displayed a less frigid demeanor, no longer suppressing intense emotions.
In mere minutes, Madam Magician’s response arrived, concise and to the point: “There’s indeed something amiss in this matter. I can’t identify the thief of the Earth Blood ore either. If you’re not fearful, you can venture to the entrance of Salle de Bal Unique and seek anyone with a monocle in their right eye. Even if they aren’t the culprits, they should possess knowledge of the suspect. If you find it too risky, exercise patience. Someone will inquire on your behalf.”
Salle de Bal Unique… That makes sense. The Sequence preceding a swindler is Marauder. Could those monocle-wearing individuals hold sway over all the thieves wielding Beyonder powers in Trier? Lumian pondered this in silence.
Aurore’s grimoires had mentioned that Marauder occupied Sequence 9 on one of the paths of the divine. Above Marauder was Swindler, and further up was Cryptologist.
After careful consideration, Lumian opted to wait for someone to inquire on his behalf. He had no immediate need for the Earth Blood ore.
The thought of Salle de Bal Unique, Monette, the monocle-wearing Islander swindler, and the swindlers who emulated his style sent shivers down his spine. He preferred to avoid any unnecessary contact for the time being.
After burning the letter, Lumian shifted his attention to the iron cabinet, the repository of Aurore’s grimoires, Flog boxing gloves, and various other items.
The once-secure safe house had become compromised, and he needed to find a new location for these possessions.
I’ll take Flog with me. I’ll carry the rest if I can, and sell what’s sellable. If not, I’ll secure another safe house… For Aurore’s grimoires and the gold, I’ll rent an anonymous safe deposit box at a large bank for their safekeeping… When this property’s current lease expires, I wouldn’t renew it… Lumian had a clear strategy in mind.
His plan encompassed the items he couldn’t easily transport or wished to part with, which primarily included the five ritualistic hides, in addition to Aurore’s grimoires and his accumulated gold. Finding a new home for these items was a priority, along with securing another safe house for himself.
With these considerations in mind, Lumian began drafting a letter addressed to Hela.
In the letter, he revealed that he had acquired information about the approximate location of the Samaritan Women’s Spring through a secretive channel. The information source had tasked him with venturing underground to retrieve a genuine bottle of water from the spring.
However, as Lumian was writing, he felt a sense of puzzlement.
It seemed unnecessary for him to be directly involved when he could have entrusted Hela with the task of obtaining the spring water on his behalf.
Madam Justice should have considered this. Why am I required to descend into the fourth level of the catacombs personally? Is it because of the perceived difficulty Hela might encounter in procuring the water by herself? She needs my assistance?
What’s so special about me? Apart from the angel sealed within me, my Sequence isn’t high…
Madame Hela’s Sequence is relatively high. It’s relatively dangerous for her to approach the Samaritan Women’s Spring and she will be prone to madness. Am I responsible for monitoring her condition and awaken her if needed?
I previously believed that Madame Hela was at least a Sequence 4. She claimed she could resolve the Cordu problem before the descent ritual, but now it appears she hasn’t ascended to a demigod. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to enter the fourth level of the catacombs, let alone approach the Samaritan Women’s Spring… Does she possess a Grade 1 Sealed Artifact or a mystical item equivalent to a saint? Lumian combed through the entire situation and made some guesses and judgments.
Continuing to write, Lumian used the information provider’s request as a pretext to express his personal desire to enter the ancient tomb.
After the summoning ritual, the skull, crafted from pure silver and radiating a gentle glow, retrieved the letter and departed.
Before long, a messenger returned with Hela’s response: “No problem. I’ll meet you at the gates of the Death Empire at 4 p.m. tomorrow.”
Phew… Lumian exhaled a sigh of relief, his body trembling with a mix of excitement and trepidation.
His adventurous spirit and penchant for experimentation had always defined him. The bizarre vanishing of the couple in the catacombs had etched a profound mark on his psyche.
…
The next morning, at 11 Rue des Fontaines.
Lumian dutifully arrived at Gardner Martin’s villa and reported the details of his meeting with Count Poufer and the other Black Cat members.
Inside, Gardner Martin, unusually excited, sat behind his desk and spoke with a hint of joy,
“Despite your claim of lacking artistic inclination, your background allows you to converse with them effectively. That’s precisely why I chose you instead of Albus.
“I was concerned you might not exhibit enough generosity, but you handled it admirably. You even sponsored them with 4,000 verl d’or on your first visit.”
Gardner Martin, the Commanding Officer of the Iron and Blood Cross Order, implied that Lumian’s status as the younger brother of best-selling author Aurore Lee, even without artistic inclination, provided him with a wealth of insider knowledge about the scandals, grudges, and grievances within the literary and artistic circles.
Lumian, however, didn’t waste any time and cut straight to the point. “What I don’t understand is why the King’s Pie game gave me a sense of danger. I even had a few nightmares last night.”
Gardner Martin nodded thoughtfully.
“That’s because Poufer is quite unique. He bears a striking resemblance to his ancestor, Vermonda. They share a strong blood connection, which allows them to bypass many crucial steps during a ritual.”
“Has his ancestor turned into an evil spirit? How can he still accept sacrifices after centuries?” Lumian asked, basing his question on logical reasoning, without mentioning Mr. K’s account.
Gardner Martin responded with solemnity, “That’s something you should investigate when you approach Poufer. Don’t worry; as long as you don’t participate in the King’s Pie game every two or three days, the only aftereffect you’ll experience is those nightmares. Keep that sense of danger intact and resist becoming a king. It’s easier for you to become a king than anyone else, except for Poufer himself. If you’re uncertain about making the right choice, let Poufer choose first.”
The Iron and Blood Cross Order wants to uncover the whereabouts of the mysterious Vermonda Sauron, who has been missing for centuries? Heh heh, why didn’t they warn me about the dangers of the King’s Pie game beforehand and advise me to be the last to make a choice? Lumian suspected that Gardner Martin hadn’t mentioned it to confirm a crucial matter.
…
In the afternoon, near the Trier Opera House, within a concealed quarry cave, Franca and Jenna, wearing half-masks, once again met the Warlock in the black robe.
He was the same client who had previously commissioned the investigation of the disappearance of the Deep Valley Cloister’s gatekeeper.
Franca scanned their surroundings, her voice intentionally hoarse as she spoke,
“We’ve made some progress in our investigation regarding the disappearance of the Deep Valley Cloister’s gatekeeper. We wish to discuss it with you privately.”
The man fell silent for over ten seconds before finally nodding. “Very well.”
Their iron-masked skeletal escort led them, along with the client, into a secluded “conversation room” within the quarry cave.
…
With an hour left until their agreed meeting time, Lumian equipped himself with a carbide lamp and entered the market district’s corresponding entrance to Underground Trier.
The source of this c𝐨ntent is fre𝒆w(e)bn(o)vel