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612 Daybreak

“Omebella.”

Termiboros’s resonant voice reverberated in Lumian’s ears as He echoed Lugano’s words.

“You’ve heard of that?” Lumian hadn’t anticipated Termiboros, who had maintained silence for a considerable time, mentioning a name that left no impression on him.

“No, I’ve never heard of it before today.” Lugano thought it was a question directed at him.

Termiboros fell silent, offering no response.

From the looks of it, it seems there is something off about the Child of God’s true name… And it sounds like a woman’s name. Considering the Villain pathway’s progression to Sequence 5 Banshee, where they transition to women, and the inherent female inclination of the Earth pathway’s Sequence 0, Earth Mother, along with the influence of the Great Mother Herself, it’s quite plausible that the Child of God is a woman. It’s a logical deduction… Lumian glanced at Lugano and smiled.

“It’s fortunate you weren’t aware of this earlier. Otherwise, you might have found yourself linked to the so-called Child of God.”

As Lumian spoke, his attention shifted to Ludwig, who had silently moved to the living room’s balcony. Lumian approached him at a measured pace, his gaze following Ludwig’s toward the deck where Captain Pedro and others were examining Father Montserrat’s lifeless form.

Lumian asked thoughtfully, “Is it edible?”

He meant whether Father Montserrat’s corpse was edible.

While Lumian had abstained from claiming the Church of Earth Mother’s possessions, including Father Montserrat’s Beyonder characteristics, he hadn’t committed to preserving the corpse intact.

In the heat of battle, it was customary for bodies to sustain damage!

Ludwig shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Very well,” Lumian sighed, retracting his gaze with a tinge of regret.

Thus, the mystery of Father Montserrat’s inexplicable connection with the invisible Child of God remained unsolved. A peculiar umbilical cord had even taken root in his stomach, leaving Lumian unable to confirm if Prinpino was a byproduct refined from Father Montserrat’s remains.

Indeed, Father Montserrat bore signs of severe corruption, though Lumian hadn’t anticipated his corruption to rival that of Mad Lady’s.

Of course, it paled in comparison to the state of the Mad Lady’s corpse; even Ludwig found it too dirty.

As for spirit channeling, Lumian understood that a spirit banished by the Exorcism Spell couldn’t be summoned for a specific duration, rendering communication impossible. Once this period lapsed, spirit channeling became futile.

Upon returning to the living room, Lumian sank into a recliner, casually unbuttoning his black vest and linen shirt. Turning to Lugano, he remarked, “Come and treat me.”

Lugano’s eyes surveyed the makeshift bandages and the oozing wounds, expressing surprise.

“It’s that serious?”

Lumian, with a hint of amusement, responded, “Do you think dealing with Father Montserrat is a walk in the park? If I hadn’t taken risks, I might have been the one lying dead.”

Lugano instinctively denied the suggestion, “Not what I meant. Why are your clothes and pants unscathed after such serious injuries?”

Lumian, enduring the pain, replied casually, “I obviously changed before coming back.”

His Traveler’s Bag proved invaluable, holding nearly a dozen identical shirts, vests, and pants, albeit varying in vest colors.

The only casualty was the golden straw hat, consumed in the explosion, now burnt to ashes.

However, this setback hardly fazed the great adventurer, Louis Berry, who had stocked up on identical replacements before leaving Port Farim.

This was the benefit of having a Traveler’s Bag. Otherwise, how could he have the space to store so many useless items with just a suitcase?

Lugano, choosing not to pry further, focused on tending to his employer’s injuries.

Originally considering a more intricate procedure, like cutting off charred skin, Lugano’s plans were halted by Lumian, opting for a simpler approach.

Lumian had no intention of enduring the agony of anesthesia-free surgery, knowing that he would revert to his original state at 6 a.m.

With the pain and injuries now manageable and showing significant improvement, Lumian made his way back to his room. There, he unfolded a letter and began recounting the events involving Father Montserrat and the true name of the Child of God, diligently reporting to Madam Magician.

Lumian consistently regarded matters related to evil gods and the so-called Child of God with great gravity. He believed such concerns should be left to his superiors, acknowledging the importance of involving higher authorities.

Had Mr. K possessed a messenger, Lumian would have promptly dispatched a modified copy to inform the Aurora Order Oracle of the situation. The next course of action wasn’t within the purview of an ordinary member like him or Minor Arcana; it was a concern for others to address.

Observing a shared stance between the Tarot Club and the Aurora Order in combating evil gods, especially those breaching the barrier, Lumian recognized his responsibility as both a minor Arcana card holder in the Tarot Club and an official member of the Aurora Order.

After meticulously recording the details, including Termiboros’s reaction, Lumian summoned the “doll” messenger.

Engaged in a recent dispute with Ludwig and being in proximity to the other party, the “doll” messenger swiftly arrived and departed. It seldom lingered, avoiding casual conversations.

In a clean and refreshing bedroom of Loen Kingdom, Backlund, Madam Magician lay peacefully in bed, immersed in a restful slumber. Abruptly, she sat up, a puzzled expression crossing her face.

Spirituality warning?

Is something significant about to unfold?

Madam Magician, having just poured a glass of Sonia blood wine and not yet delved into her astromancy, was surprised to see the “doll” messenger materialize on her desk. It placed a folded letter next to a dark-red fountain pen.

Lumian’s letter… Has he unearthed the issue with the Earth Mother Church’s priest? I didn’t guide him in vain… Madam Magician mused, letting the glass float in midair. She picked up the letter and unfolded it.

As she read, her expression underwent a sudden change, and she softly repeated the name,

“Omebella?”

The true name of the invisible Child of God is this? Was my spiritual warning connected to it?

This is something worth discussing at the Tarot Club’s regular gathering…

After a moment, Madam Magician used astromancy to indirectly verify the information. She then seated herself and observed as the dark-red fountain pen levitated. Removing the cap, she began to inscribe her thoughts on the faux goatskin: “Omebella is a name shrouded in the fog of history. It carries a potent symbolic meaning in mysticism…”

“Using Omebella as the Child of God’s true name. I don’t know if it’s tied to the mysteries of the Second Epoch when the ancient gods, predating the Ancient Sun God, ruled the land, or if the Great Mother is employing intense mystical symbolism to gradually erode Earth Mother’s authority and even Earth Mother Herself.

“If we can unravel the secrets of the ancient era, we might find an answer.

“The one the Aurora Order believes in might know something.”

As Lumian read the response inked on faux goatskin, he sensed a subtle suggestion from Madam Magician, hinting at him to inquire with the Aurora Order through Mr. K.

He continued reading.

“Simply put, Omebella belongs to the ancient giant race. Once known as the Goddess of Harvest during the era when ancient gods held sway. I can’t divulge more at this time. No need to delve into this matter specifically. If you come across the Earth Mother Church’s Favored, Nightstalkers, or members of the School of God’s Descent, keep a vigilant eye. We’ll handle the follow-up. Of course, when the time comes, we might assign you one or two minor missions.”

The Goddess of Harvest… indeed linked to the Earth pathway… Lumian pondered as he burned the letter with crimson flames. Returning to bed, he feigned sleep, attuned to the ship’s movements.

With the sunrise, his body swiftly healed, and the day unfolded without unexpected incidents.

Lumian returned to the living room and addressed Lugano, who had been awake for an hour, showing signs of a restless night.

“Still hearing the baby crying?”

“No,” Lugano replied, a mix of joy and uncertainty evident in his response.

Lugano believed he needed more time to observe before drawing a final conclusion.

Lumian chuckled.

“As expected, seeking Father Montserrat’s help is the only way to completely resolve your aftereffects.”

Lugano nearly choked on his words.

So, that’s why you wanted me to seek help from Father Montserrat?

Killing him is the equivalent of completely resolving the aftereffects I suffered?

Lumian approached the balcony and instructed Lugano, “Find Enio later and use a follow-up consultation as an excuse to confirm his condition.”

Right, Enio was saved by Father Montserrat’s surgery. Since there’s something wrong with Father Montserrat, he, too, might be problematic… Lugano had concerns seeking the patient, fearing potential danger. However, as he observed the sunlight gradually brightening and the horizon turning red, a sense of relief washed over him.

At 9 a.m., Lugano returned, informing Lumian that the special patient had recovered exceptionally well. There were no signs of surgery failure or hidden dangers, nor indications of corruption.

Around the same time, Captain Pedro approached Lumian, sharing news that the ship would temporarily dock to allow the Church of Earth Mother’s personnel to collect Father Montserrat’s corpse and relics and remove relevant individuals.

Notably, the adventurer and his servant were explicitly excluded from this directive by the Church of Earth Mother.

Lumian smiled, offering no response to the captain’s words. His demeanor radiated confidence and certainty.

Around noon, several combat nuns and a priest in a brown robe boarded the ship, escorting Enio and others away.

On the balcony, Lugano observed Enio being “invited” off the ship, his expression a mix of daze and fear, powerless to resist. Lugano sighed.

“If he’s fine, why capture him?”

Lumian emitted a soft chuckle.

“Do you think it’s nonexistent just because you say so? Be optimistic—after the Church of Earth Mother confirms there’s no issue, he might secure a clerical position within the Church, interacting with combat nuns daily.”

Lugano fell silent, then after a few seconds, he remarked, “But that also means losing his freedom. He’s a victim…”

“Freedom?” Lumian scoffed. “The prerequisite for freedom is not endangering others.”

Despite his stance, as he witnessed the terrified and nervous Enio and recalled the deceased Father Montserrat in his normal persona, Lumian couldn’t help but recall a peculiar phrase his sister would occasionally utter: “All living beings suffer.”

Ooo!

With a whistle, the ship prepared to set sail once again.

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