354 Palm
Underground near the arcade of the opera house.
The Warlock-dressed man spoke to Franca in a shrill voice, “It’s simple. There are only three specific terms. First, you two must promise to blow up the hidden door of the secret cave in Deep Valley Quarry, creating a commotion that can attract everyone nearby. Second, I’ll pay both of you 50,000 verl d’or with an advance of 20,000. Third, you’ll face consequences if you don’t uphold your end of the bargain. This restriction applies to both parties. We can discuss the details.”
The man had no intention of deceiving the two Beyonders in the contract. Instead, he planned to use his abilities to modify the mission’s content the moment the contract was established, forcing them to infiltrate the secret cave in Deep Valley Quarry and retrieve what he wanted, along with sufficient evidence.
This entrustee had once purchased a human soul for 1,000 verl d’or using this unique ability to tamper with transaction terms. He believed he wouldn’t be disappointed this time.
As Franca conversed with the Warlock-dressed man, Jenna, hidden in the shadows, reached into the small money bag and idly stroked the gold, silver, and copper coins inside.
She was certain that there was no seal inside the money bag.
Or rather, Franca didn’t have a seal!
What does she mean? Jenna’s gaze shifted to the entrustee who had stated the terms of the contract, finding it rather peculiar.
If he wanted to strike a deal, why not apply for notarization at the mysticism gathering just now?
If he were afraid that the contents of the commission would be exposed, he could have gone to the “conversation room” and borrowed the host’s mystical item. There was no need to secretly follow us for the commission!
Something is definitely off!
Jenna understood why Franca had tossed the coin bag to her.
As soon as she realized that something was amiss, she was to immediately use the Ring of Punishment to attack the other party and take control over the situation!
Phew… Jenna exhaled slowly and put on the Ring of Punishment. Using the shadows, she closed the distance between herself and the entrustee.
Franca glanced at the shadows not illuminated by the carbide lamp and smiled at the entrustee dressed as a Warlock.
“That sounds reasonable, but I need to confirm if you’re lying and if there’s a problem with this matter.”
As she spoke, she gently tossed the carbide lamp in front of her and retrieved a mirror from the Assassin suit’s hidden pocket. She smiled and said, “Coincidentally, I’m skilled in divination.”
Upon hearing this, the entrustee dressed as a Warlock’s pupils dilated, and his entire body tensed up.
He wasn’t sure if Magic Mirror Divination could expose his scheme!
Hidden in the shadows, Jenna detected his abnormality. Without hesitation, she raised her right hand slightly, causing the iron-colored ring covered in tiny spikes to glow.
Simultaneously, two blinding bolts of lightning shot out from her eyes.
Psychic Piercing!
…
At the Samaritan Women’s Spring.
Lumian and Hela were once again gripped by a horrifying terror, consumed by pure madness. They stood frozen in place, their bodies quivering slightly.
While this madness immobilized them, it paradoxically spared them from imminent death. Their frozen bodies burned with an intense heat, and their dormant thoughts ignited with fury and brutality.
However, their purplish-red livor mortis and decaying skin continued to worsen, showing no signs of improvement.
Darkness descended once more, and Hela used the black diamond ring on her right hand to try and pacify the spectral figures hovering in the Samaritan Women’s Spring, including the burning giant in rotting armor.
Lumian recollected his thoughts and realized that his escape with Hela had not been in vain.
They had distanced themselves more than ten meters from the spring, and the decaying, shadowy figures could not leave the Samaritan Women’s Spring or reach the shore to grasp their legs and drag them underwater.
These figures clustered at the spring’s edge, their vacant eyes staring into nothingness. Their heavily decayed or distorted hands occasionally reached out from the water, only to be forcefully pulled back by some mysterious force.
Silently, they emitted roars that made the entire slope tremble, inducing drowsiness and feelings of submission in Lumian and Hela, causing various adverse reactions.
However, the madness that had ignited their thoughts and the strange effects that had led to signs of dissociative identity disorder had failed to take hold.
Around the Samaritan Women’s Spring, only the lingering female figure and the long black hair, resembling seaweed, could approach Lumian. One gazed at him with eerie eyes, while the other extended itself, attempting to ensnare him.
Lumian was relieved. Even if his resistance failed, he would be dragged toward the Samaritan Women’s Spring by the long black hair and the indistinct figure suspected to be a high-ranking Demoness. With more than ten meters to cover, he had a chance to hold on until the pale-white spring water overcame the terrifying figure with its reddening iron-black eyes and carried him back into the pitch-black abyss.
When the moment arrived, Lumian could make a swift escape. In two or three attempts, he could exit the area shrouded in the grayish-white fog and return to the chamber above.
Later, he would send Hela inside to retrieve the Samaritan Women’s Spring’s water, avoiding the adverse reaction caused by the blood ore and the colossal figure which was clearly more potent than the other “water ghosts.”
But in the next moment, Lumian’s body froze unnaturally.
White frost appeared and vanished repeatedly on his body.
In the blue eyes of the woman, Lumian was now imprisoned in ice.
The long black hair coiled tighter around him, dragging him toward the Samaritan Women’s Spring.
Seeing Lumian in peril, Hela, who had remained relatively unaffected, swiftly aimed her right hand at the unknown entity, suspected to be the lingering spirit of a high-ranking Demoness, using the black diamond ring that emitted a constant darkness.
The night transformed into a shroud, enshrouding the other entity and inducing slumber.
Lumian seized this opportunity to release a harrumph, channeling a white stream of light through his nose and into the crystalline ice that bound him, targeting the seaweed-like black hair.
The black hair that ensnared him suddenly lost its strength.
Simultaneously, the curtain of night that had surrounded the entity abruptly constricted, leaving it empty.
Not far away, the female figure in the white robe reappeared, her gaze fixed on Lumian.
Though danger still loomed, Lumian felt a surge of relief. He believed that, even if he stopped resisting now, he could hold on until the pale-white spring withdrew into its depths.
At that moment, the iron-colored eyes of the colossal figure floating in the spring grew wilder, and the rust-like redness became as vivid as blood.
He tugged violently at the spring water, as if trying to break free from invisible chains.
Finally, amid a tumultuous earthquake-like upheaval, the figure draped in tattered, blood-soaked armor and engulfed in invisible flames reached the edge of the Samaritan Women’s Spring.
Rumble!
The ground quaked, sending grayish-white dust raining down.
Lumian’s mind buzzed, and he blacked out instantly.
When he regained his senses, he found himself back at the edge of the Samaritan Women’s Spring, having covered over ten meters in an instant.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Hela rushing back towards him, her eyes vacant and bloodshot, resembling a puppet or a mindless soldier following orders.
Lumian could already guess that when he closed his eyes, he had returned to the spring’s edge in a similarly empty and obedient state.
At this moment, he couldn’t flee upon regaining consciousness. Behind him were the coiling black hair and the figure of the supposed high-ranking Demoness. In front of him were the grotesque, decaying, and repulsive palms.
Simultaneously, they clawed at Lumian, intent on dragging him into the spring. The colossal figure with long, blood-red hair hanging over it was just a step away.
Gritting his teeth, Lumian seized the chance to bite the base of the white candle and reached into his pocket with his gloved left hand.
As he did, he cursed internally.
You dogsh*t evil gods have been observing me for so long. Why haven’t you sent anything to harm me?
Where are the promised dangerous creatures?
Are you afraid to confront that insane figure here?
Despite his curses, Lumian didn’t give up. He drew a dagger and was about to cleave off his right palm, which had been corroded by the Earth Blood ore.
If you want it, take it!
As for whether the 6 a.m. reboot each morning would cause his missing right hand to regenerate, he didn’t care at this point.
At that moment, a pale-white hand emerged from the pitch-black hole at the depths of the spring, where the ground trembled and quaked.
The fingers of the hand were slender, with cracks running along its back. These cracks oozed pale-yellow feathers and decaying yellow pus. The skin on either side of the cracks was crystalline like jade, but pale and dark.
As the palm emerged, it crossed the barrier of the spring water and seized the right leg of the colossal figure.
The figure, clad in tattered, blood-stained armor and shrouded in intangible flames, swayed uncontrollably as it was pulled toward the pitch-black abyss deep within the pale-white spring water.
It struggled and resisted with all its might, but the bizarre palm’s retreat remained relentless. The only response was the falling of light-yellow feathers, pus stained with blood, and skin that was no longer crystalline but highlighted with black, living blood vessels.
Countless complex symbols—pale-white, pitch-black, or dim—appeared, carrying the frenzied and terrifying figure as it rapidly shrank toward the pitch-black spring.
Lumian couldn’t witness the scene, nor could he see what was happening. All he knew was that the massive figure with a decaying face, blood-red hair, and iron-black eyes was moving away from him. The terrifying hands that had grabbed him stopped moving, frozen in place.
The crazed figure growled repeatedly but couldn’t break free. In the blink of an eye, most of its body had been dragged back into the depths of the spring.
Just as it was about to disappear completely, its madness materialized. Two dark-red “rust spots” shot out of its iron-black eyes and darted straight toward Lumian.
Instinctively, Lumian raised his right hand to block. The two rust marks pierced through the Flog boxing glove and into his skin, which had been corroded by the Earth Blood ore.
Splash!
The pale-white spring water receded entirely, pulling all the floating figures into the pitch-black abyss.
The vicinity of the spring fell eerily silent.
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