Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability

Chapter 659 - 659 Poor “Monster”
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659 Poor “Monster”

Observing Camus’s expression, as if compelled to act at gunpoint, Lumian didn’t hold back. He replied with a smile, “I’d like that.”

It was evident to him that the brass of the patrol team, or even Admiral Querarill himself, was concerned about Louis Berry wandering around their territory. Tizamo, where he was headed, was located near the primitive forest and had close ties to a Sequence 5 Desire Apostle. Therefore, two additional patrol team members with a certain relationship with Louis Berry were sent to accompany him. Even if they couldn’t prevent trouble, they could at least send word before it became a catastrophe.

As for why they didn’t directly stop Louis Berry from heading to Tizamo Town, it was partly because Lumian had hinted at the faction backing him when he submitted Twanaku’s head. Without a conflict of principles, Admiral Querarill likely wouldn’t make things difficult for him. Secondly, Louis Berry’s investigations and adventures seemed to bring calamity, but they had exposed hidden dangers ahead of time. If the problem remained concealed and continued to evolve, Matani and Admiral Querarill might not be able to handle it in a year or two. When the time came, blood might flow like a river.

Kolobo, acting as the carriage driver, gazed ahead stonily. He fumbled for a pair of sunglasses and slid them onto the bridge of his nose. There were no visible injuries on his body.

As Camus held the carriage door open, he watched Louis Berry board, leading a young boy by the hand.

“He’s going to Tizamo too?” Camus blurted in surprise.

He had assumed Louis Berry would leave his servant and godson at Hotel Orella, joining them later after dealing with Tizamo Town’s issues. However, the adventurer was now bringing a young child to Tizamo, and it was evident this wasn’t a leisurely trip. It was very dangerous!

Lumian’s left foot remained on the ground, and his right foot halted at the carriage’s edge. He smiled and spoke, “My godson is fascinated by jungle fruits, the unique beasts I hunt, and various spices.”

Earlier, the Tizamons had mentioned their hometown’s specialties, highlighting the excellence of roasted meat. The blend of spices and the distinctive gamey flavor of wild beasts in the forest contributed to Tizamo Town’s unique delicacies.

Ludwig, already settled in the carriage, swallowed, seemingly in sync with Lumian.

Aren’t you worried about endangering your godson? Why are you so confident? Camus didn’t press, simply signaling Lugano with his eyes to hurry up.

Lugano cast a glance at the peculiar carriage driver, who trembled slightly beneath his black sunglasses. He entered the carriage and took a seat across from Lumian and Ludwig.

Camus shut the carriage door and settled beside Kolobo. With a sigh, he remarked, “You can remove your sunglasses now. It’s been hard on you.”

“Alright, alright, alright.” Kolobo seemed to shiver as if struck by an icy wind. His teeth chattered, and his tremors intensified.

Camus turned to him, surprised.

“Didn’t you strike a deal face-to-face with Louis Berry? Why are you still so afraid?”

Not seeing him directly again!

“Alright, alright, alright.” Kolobo removed his sunglasses, taking more than ten seconds to compose himself.

In a hushed tone, he confessed with fear, “I feel like my fingers, my arms, my insides, even my head… all eaten.

“That, that…”

“That what?” Camus struggled to comprehend why the Monster’s demeanor had shifted so drastically, sensing that the issue might be significant.

Kolobo swallowed hard and continued, “That… that child… is also… very dangerous!

“Though I haven’t laid eyes on him, I sense a looming threat, like facing a lion, a tiger, a python, ready to eat me at any moment.”

“…” Camus was stunned, a hiss escaping his lips.

Until now, Kolobo had never exhibited such fear except in the presence of three individuals radiating danger: Desire Apostle Twanaku with Wraith powers, and Louis Berry, capable of hunting Twanaku. Could this boy match them?

Is he also a Beyonder, perhaps a Sequence 5 Beyonder?

No, it’s not merely a Sequence 5 matter. Our patrol team’s captain is a Sequence 5, yet Kolobo never mentioned feeling such foreboding in his presence.

There must be something unique about these three individuals!

Regardless, the boy is undoubtedly extraordinary and hazardous!

No wonder Louis Berry is bringing his godson to Tizamo without worry. Perhaps the child poses an even greater threat… Camus unraveled his earlier confusion, stifling his curiosity, refraining from probing further with Kolobo.

In the confines of the four-wheeled carriage, even with the barrier between them, Louis Berry caught wind of their hushed exchange!

Considering the intel gleaned from the Fog Sea, Camus harbored suspicions that Louis Berry was a Sequence 5 Beyonder following the Hunter pathway. Those of this pathway were renowned for their sharp senses—exceptional vision, acute sense of smell, and keen hearing.

A Beyonder of the Monster pathway is quite intriguing. Even without laying eyes on Ludwig or hearing his voice, Louis can sense his ominous aura, a being who devours everything… Lumian, leaning against the carriage wall, toyed with his golden straw hat, shooting Ludwig a knowing smile.

Could it be that this “little child” has truly taken a liking to Kolobo and Camus?

Indeed. These are two Beyonders who haven’t succumbed to severe corruption. Ludwig likely had a momentary lapse in control… Heh heh, Camus may not have noticed, but Kolobo reacted instantly, sensing the danger? Lumian acknowledged Ludwig with a nod.

“Well done. Your restraint is admirable.”

Praise was due when a child behaved correctly, fostering a healthy mindset and habits!

Ludwig remained silent, his expression conveying he was not to be treated as a child.

A faint smile graced his lips as he retrieved a box of biscuits from his crimson school bag, nibbling on them.

What restraint… What did he mean by “well done”… Lugano, seated across from him, found himself perplexed.

Tizamo stood as the most remote town in Port Pylos, nestled against the edge of the primitive forest. A full two hours’ journey by carriage was required to reach it.

Of course, for those in a hurry, an alternative route existed: boarding a steam locomotive from the port to Cahert, the southernmost town. From there, a carriage or coffin could be hired to venture northeast, shaving the travel time to Tizamo down to just an hour. However, Lumian showed no inclination towards haste.

As they departed Port Pylos, the road gradually narrowed and deteriorated. Yet, the carriage pressed on steadily. Kolobo, the carriage driver, operated with precision akin to a well-

oiled machine, guiding the horses and carriage without falter.

An hour slipped by, and the carriage wound its way through the forest.

Abruptly, Lumian, pretending to slumber, snapped open his eyes.

His body turned dark and spectral, melding with the shadows cast by the window.

Shadow Transformation!

In an instant, gunshots pierced the forest’s tranquility.

Bullets whizzed from afar, some thudding into the earth, kicking up clouds of soil, while others took aim at Camus, the carriage, and the horse.

Amidst the chaos, the horse crumpled, bleeding profusely, and the carriage toppled to the ground.

Kolobo had already abandoned his perch as the driver, escaping unscathed from the barrage of gunfire. Camus leaped clear of the carriage in advance, crouching low, revolver in hand. He maneuvered with agility, at times rolling, at others slithering deeper into the undergrowth.

With each movement, he unleashed shots, seeking to suppress the unseen assailant. In this range, many of his abilities were restricted.

A handful of fiery crimson orbs, almost blindingly white, streaked past Camus, disappearing into the forest’s depths.

Rumble!

Amidst the thunderous explosions, the gunfire abruptly ceased.

Soon after, curses in Dutanese rang out from the forest’s depths.

“Go to hell, you Northern Continent bandits!

“Rot with your sons of bitches!

“Come after us if you have the guts!

“…”

Gradually, the curses faded into the forest’s depths.

Lumian emerged from the shadows of the carriage, opting not to pursue.

“It’s the Resistance! What are they doing in Matani…” Camus frowned, muttering to himself in confusion.

In the Southern Continent, numerous Resistance factions abounded. He couldn’t discern which faction they belonged to or their motives. Typically, Matani, ostensibly independent from the Intis Republic and governed by Admiral Querarill, a Southern Continent native, saw little Resistance activity. Their primary demand was the expulsion of colonists.

Could it be a faction of the Resistance dedicated to Death, aiming to revive Death’s influence in Matani? Please not the Rose School of Thought-backed Resistance. No, those lunatics… Camus returned to the carriage, puzzled.

Lumian mulled over another matter.

Despite attaining Sequence 5 status, life still felt fragile.

Vulnerable to being shot dead!

If a Resistance member possessed sharpshooting skills and remained beyond his observational range, sniping from over 100 meters, they could have ended his life.

Reapers lacked the resilient bodies of Devils. While lacking Malicious Perception, Devils might sustain only minor wounds from rifle shots. Their absence of long-range Danger Premonition characteristic of Seer pathways rendered them unable to preemptively evade.

Granted, Lumian’s Ascetic traits bolstered his spiritual perception. Anticipating danger, he had foreseen the attack.

Yet, if the adversary could nullify his spiritual perception or manipulate it effectively, conventional rifles could indeed imperil Lumian.

Yes, Shadow Transformation can serve as a shield. Bullets lacking special effects pose no genuine threat to shadow beings… Lumian redirected his thoughts, instructing Lugano, emerging from the carriage, “Check on the horse.”

If it survived, attend to its injuries promptly for carriage duty. If not, Ludwig would command the equine corpse to pull the carriage.

After all, Ludwig had gained the ability to command a handful of low-level undead from a concoction brewed from Hisoka’s eyeballs.

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