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Jenna completed reading Lumian’s letter and lapsed into silence for a few moments before remarking,
“The origin of the Derangement is genuinely formidable… Lumian unknowingly endured its effects for nearly half a month.”
Luckily, the woman’s ailment didn’t erupt. Otherwise, everyone on the ship would have descended into madness.
Jenna contemplated for a moment, convinced that if she were in Lumian’s position, the outcome would be the same; nothing would alter.
“Hence, Sealed Artifacts above Level 2 wield immense power, but they’re not practical for most situations. Their mere existence can bring catastrophe to the surrounding humans,” Franca seized the chance to enlighten her companion, who had only been a Beyonder for half a year.
She conveyed this information to Madam Judgment, not 007. This decision arose from the unpredictability of the emergency communication methods. What if 007 happened to be occupied and didn’t go to that location? Regular communication had to wait until after 10 p.m.
Considering the imminent threat of Derangement, Franca didn’t want to waste valuable time. With Madam Judgment’s real-world identity, contacting the official Beyonders of the Feynapotter Kingdom was assured—no worries about not locating her. Come nightfall, she would notify 007, ensuring the message reached the right people.
With this matter settled, Franca and Jenna reached the catacombs in a rented carriage.
Having followed Lumian to the third level, they had drawn valuable information from him. The place was now familiar to them. Soon, they entered a small square illuminated by burning white candles and adorned with two sacrificial pillars.
Jenna reflected for a moment and, to Franca’s confusion, approached the sacrificial pillar representing the Eternal Blazing Sun. She outstretched her arms and reverently declared, “Praise the Sun!”
She was seeking protection.
Franca couldn’t help but twitch her lips as she observed the scene. Amused, she remarked,
“Why are you becoming more and more like Ciel—uh, Lumian?”
“Dammit! How do I resemble him?” Jenna retorted instinctively.
“In terms of faith flexibility,” Franca pointed out with a smile. “Like me, I only praise Mr. Fool. I didn’t say anything like ‘By Steam.’”
Jenna pondered for a moment and admitted, “Because Lumian and I once truly believed in the Eternal Blazing Sun…”
Suddenly, she halted, her lips moving as she cursed herself.
Am I admitting that I do resemble Lumian?
Franca had only been teasing. After praising The Fool, she left the sacrificial square with Jenna and headed towards the entrance of the fourth level, where the Krismona Night Pillar stood.
Thanks to Lumian’s information, they navigated past the skeletal “blockage” on the road. In the dim environment, they moved cautiously, guided by the faint candlelight.
As Franca walked, an idea crossed her mind.
“Do you think we have to hold the lit white candles in our hands? Can we hold them above our heads or make a lantern and place them inside? Will this also protect us?”
Accustomed to Franca’s occasional peculiar thoughts, Jenna casually replied, “You can give it a try.”
After considering the potential consequences of a failed experiment, Franca chuckled dryly.
“Forget it, forget it. No need to be curious about such things.”
She looked at Jenna beside her and changed the subject.
“Why are you dressed like this?”
Jenna, now in a black dress and a dark bonnet, exuded a beauty that carried a touch of maturity beyond her years.
Jenna instinctively scanned the surroundings for any dim yellow candles before whispering,
“I’m playing the part of a Witch to add a mysterious touch.”
Clad in a black robe with a hood, she might resemble the witches known to humans, but it could easily raise suspicion from the Demoness Sect, so Jenna found a compromise.
Franca quickly grasped the situation and nodded in approval. “You’ve put in the effort.”
Seizing the moment, Jenna inquired, “What about you? Since Gardner’s demise, have you not found an opportunity to digest Pleasure with someone?”
Franca, usually thick-skinned, felt a bit embarrassed by Jenna’s words. She coughed twice and replied, “It’s not difficult to find someone if I wanted. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll turn down Browns at an opportune moment and see if she takes offense. Heh heh, if she truly experiences pleasure, she might invite me to join her…”
Franca suddenly shut her mouth, wishing she could raise her right hand and slap herself.
Why did I disclose all this to Jenna?
What a disgrace!
Clearing her throat, Franca said, “Besides, this presents an opportunity.”
“Opportunity?” Jenna was puzzled.
Franca nodded solemnly.
“Relying solely on the matters in bed and physical pleasure can indeed slowly digest the potion. It also aligns with the negative characteristics of a Demoness. However, I keep feeling that the meaning of Pleasure shouldn’t be limited to this. Taking advantage of the absence of a target for physical pleasure, I want to calm down and slowly experience and explore other possibilities.
“For instance, captivating a man’s heart. Bringing joy merely by being around me. Providing pleasure through interaction, yet beyond his reach. Each encounter becomes a torment, a glimpse into the catastrophe and affliction a Demoness brings…
“Dammit, I despise such women the most!”
Franca’s frustration blazed as she spoke.
Jenna was taken aback, her lips pursed, her body trembling slightly as she struggled to contain her laughter.
“Something along those lines. At any rate, that’s the gist,” Franca abruptly concluded the conversation.
In the dim candlelight, Franca passed by a newly constructed tomb beside an ancient one. A sudden frown creased her forehead, questioning if she had missed an opportunity.
If I had sighed and hinted at the stagnation of my digestion due to the absence of a pleasure partner, would Jenna offer sympathy and assistance?
Argh, my stubbornness has cost me!
But perhaps she’d suggest Lumian…
Franca’s thoughts raced, but she remained vigilant, especially when she noticed the jumbled bones strewn along the roadside.
Finally, she and Jenna reached the Krismona Night Pillar, a black marble structure supporting the cave’s ceiling.
No etchings or signs of erosion adorned its surface.
Franca studied it for a moment and remarked, “It’s reminiscent of the one in Fourth Epoch Trier, albeit smaller. More like a tip.”
Turning to Jenna, she inquired, “Do you sense anything peculiar?”
Furrowing her brow, Jenna shook her head slowly.
“No.”
…
Feynapotter Kingdom, Gaia Province, Port Santa, Solow Motel.
Lumian swiftly received a response from Madam Magician:
“Have you faced the dread of a Grade 1 Sealed Artifact?
“Repeating it won’t imprint as deeply as experiencing it firsthand.
“This likely is the power of a High-Sequence Beyonder in the Spectator pathway, constantly shaping the thoughts and perceptions of those around. Remember: ‘Beware of the Spectator’…
“The Sealed Artifact has other powers. I’m uncertain if it belongs to the evil gods outside. For now, you needn’t pursue or capture it. We’ll liaise with the Earth Mother Church through Mr. Moon.”
Reading this, Lumian muttered to himself, I’d rather not get involved, but it’s not my call. Sometimes, my nature thrusts me into things I’d rather avoid.
It was just like him and the Sealed Artifact being on the same voyage, headed for the same destination.
Simultaneously, Lumian gleaned a vital detail from Madam Magician’s arrangements.
Mr. Moon of the Tarot Club had close ties with the Earth Mother Church.
After a moment’s reflection, Lumian resumed reading the letter.
“We’re also probing Resurrection Island’s existence. Mr. Hanged Man and Madam Hermit are leading the investigation. They have theories but can’t confirm yet. If they need your aid, they’ll inform you and seek your consent. However, don’t search for Resurrection Island now. It’s very dangerous. Remember, very dangerous…
“The death mark is a lingering essence of death. Ordinary humans leave one mark; certain Sequences of certain pathways can leave many. Such marks erode and merge with death, lasting longer for those higher in status or with special abilities. As for ordinary Low-Sequence Beyonders, the corresponding death mark won’t exist for anything beyond a few years.
“Setting up a ritual to summon the death mark is nearly impossible. Even a Sequence 0 true god wouldn’t dare approach the essence of death, let alone with a ritual.
“I suspect something amiss with the Arden evil spirit Burman summoned. The decline in Burman’s mental state may have started with that spirit, not his encounter with Harrison of Resurrection Island.
“Perhaps, the Arden evil spirit isn’t dead.”
The Arden evil spirit, leaving behind blood traces and easily dispatched by Burman, isn’t dead? What an absurd storyline… Even Madam Magician remains clueless about the nature of this creature. Recollecting Burman’s encounter, Lumian couldn’t detect anything abnormal.
This behavior seemed like that of a half-mad individual, forcibly transitioning between pathways.
In her closing remarks, Madam Magician cautioned: “Exercise caution during your investigations in Port Santa. Should you encounter any difficulties, don’t hesitate to seek aid from the Knight of Swords.”
There’s no need for that for now… Lumian replied inwardly.
This stemmed from a lack of leads or information. Even if he were to correspond with the Knight of Swords, Lumian wouldn’t know what to inquire about or what kind of assistance to request.
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