598 Confrontation and Reconciliation


    The night draped thend in darkness, and stars adorned the sky above Port Santa. The festive crowd had dispersed, leaving behind the remnants of celebration—discarded litter and the lingering scent of alcohol.


    With the official end of the holiday, the city would soon buzz with work again.


    Lumian lingered at the bar until closing time. As he stepped out, the deserted streets weed him, illuminated only by sporadic gasmps.


    Thete-night air hinted at the approaching winter’s chill. Lumian breathed it in, feeling the crisp freshness entering his lungs. The rhythmic crash of waves against the shore added to the night’s serenity.


    In seemingly high spirits, Lumian, slightly tipsy, walked past the aftermath of the celebration with hands in his pockets, unnoticed in the silent surroundings.


    He made his way back to the room rented under a false identity.


    Upon opening the door, he found Lugano pacing anxiously in the living room.


    “Still up?” Lumian raised an eyebrow.


    Lugano, looking like he’d recovered from a serious injury, spoke with aplex expression,


    “An hour ago, Captain Noelia of thebat nuns paid you a visit. Not in armor, but a stunning dress. She has quite the figure…”


    “And then?” Lumian inquired, a smirk on his face.


    Lugano replied with envy, “She left disappointed when I told her you weren’t around.”


    Lumian chuckled, “What’s it got to do with you? Why are you still awake after an hour?”


    Lugano coughed awkwardly, “I had a sudden contemtion about my future. Should I return to Trier and pursue a medical career, or should I opt for a different path?”


    Ignoring the Doctor’s musings, Lumian, with a smile, washed up briefly and retired to his room, sumbing to sleep.


    In his dreams, recent events blended into a chaotic tapestry, weaving stranger and more bizarre stories.


    At precisely 6 a.m., Lumian awoke and promptly sat up.


    His thoughts sharpened as he recalled the dream. Suddenly, a detail struck him:


    Disregarding the possibility of the Aurora Order having covertly observed the situation, the crucial aspect of the sea prayer ritual was Amon’s utilization of the altar in Milo Vige to discreetly imbue Lie with a “Steal” ability.


    Without this intervention, the opening of the spaceship’s energy passageway would have led to a reversal. Deprived of the sea’s power, he couldn’t have ensnared Mad Lady with the authority of the Governor of the Sea, dying her until Madam Magician’s arrival.


    However, Celestial Worthy, positioned at the pinnacle of the Seer, Apprentice, and Marauder pathways, should possess an in-depth understanding of Marauder abilities. It seemed unlikely that He hadn’t considered the possibility of an Amon hiding at the altar, granting “Steal” powers.


    It made sense that He hadn’t shared this knowledge with April Fool’s; they were expendable tools, and excessive information might weaken their resolve during the operation. But the overall n shouldn’t have crumbled due to this.


    Were Celestial Worthy’s intentions more intricate than they seemed? Had He secretly achieved a goal, or did Amon and His unseen ally orchestrate events in advance?


    Had Amon truly kept watch over the altar in Milo Vige without pause,st year’s sea prayer ritual might not have failed. There remains the prospect that He wanted to derive amusement from April Fool’s antics.


    The chaos wrought by April Fool’sst year was perhaps understandable. Shouldn’t the most straightforward approach this year involve discreetly allowing thepletion of the Ring of the Sea Queen during the ancestor honoring ritual? Subsequently, events could unfold with Ultraman assuming the guise of the iing Governor of the Sea, only to be dumbfounded when the sea sacrifice ritual seeded!


    Why the convoluted path? What was the purpose behind these seemingly unnecessary steps?


    There must be something I’m missing…


    Lumian massaged his temples and rose from the bed.


    The revtion didn’t surprise him. It would be abnormal if he quickly unraveled the true motives of every participant in suchplex scenarios involving high-level entities.


    Regardless, his goal was aplished, and the perilous ck hole in the spaceship remained sealed. The rest was not his concern. If he could decipher it, great. If not, he could always write to Madam Magician to provide a timely reminder.


    After a jog around the still-slumbering Port Santa, Lumian penned a letter to Madam Magician, detailing his reflections.


    As Lumian finished, Lugano, who had been out gathering breakfast for Ludwig, returned to his quarters.


    Taking a moment to contemte, Lumian handed over 1,000 gold risot to Lugano. With aposed tone, he stated, “I’ll be away for a few days. Take care of Ludwig. When I return, thismission will bepletely over.”


    When the time came, Lumian nned on taking a boat to the Southern Continent. Lumian intended to conspire and make preparations along the way. His aim was to be ready for the final conspiracy and advance to Sequence 5 upon reaching his destination in the Southern Continent.


    Without prying into his employer’s destination, Lugano nervously asked, “W-


    will there be any danger in the next few days?”


    “It’s done,” Lumian replied with a smile. “If any other danger arises, go to the Fertility Order and seek protection. Isn’t that what you’ve been anticipating?”


    Lugano grinned sheepishly, reassured by Lumian’s demeanor. n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    Under the shining sun of Port Santa, with delicious food and passionate women, staying a few more days seemed like a pleasant prospect!


    …


    A two-story ry carriage raced through the vige towns scattered across turquoise pastures, making its way towards the base of the Pyraez mountain range.


    Maintaining his disguise as the adventurer Louis Berry, Lumian upied a window seat in the carriage, silently observing the passing scenery.


    Each turquoise pasture was adorned with flocks of sheep, resembling scattered clouds. Shepherds, d in practical and mobile robes, strolled amidst the grazing animals.


    Some had their own shacks, while others utilized small, wheeled shepherd’s huts for mobility.


    asionally, local vigers attempted to drive away the iing shepherds, only to be met with sly smiles or cated with money and supplies.


    Faced with determined locals, the shepherds, arriving from the mountain pass, reluctantly moved to more deste areas, contending with the watchful eyes of wild wolves and other creatures…


    The scenes spoken of by the Cordu shepherds presented themselves vividly to Lumian, searing a memory in his mind.


    Two dayster, the ry carriage halted at the foot of the Pyraez mountain range, pausing in a small town outside the mountain pass.


    Lumian changed into a ck tweed coat, preparing to venture into the mountain alone.


    As he ascended the mountain ridge, the cold wind intensified, rendering the wilderness almost devoid of life.


    Navigating the sparsely vegetated mountainous terrain, Lumian followed the trails left by shepherds and merchants. Under the birdless gray sky, the destendscape featured withered trees and a meager stream. Winter’s solitude permeated the air.


    In the cold solitude, it took him nearly three days to traverse the Dariège mountain range and reach the river outside Cordu.


    Circling the towering forest, Lumian promptly spotted the blood-colored pir, emanating the aura of a mountain peak despite its modest height.


    As Lumian gazed, footsteps approached from ahead.


    A middle-aged man, d in a leather coat and sping his hands together, appeared.


    Trembling in the cold wind, the forest ranger shouted, “Don’t go any further. That vige is gone!”


    Lumian’s eyes moved beyond the ranger to the copsed and burned structures in the distance.


    After a brief pause, he inquired in a deep voice, “What happened to that vige?”


    The forest ranger nced around and lowered his voice, “They said they believed in demons. The vigers went crazy, burned down their houses, and walked into the abyss.


    “Look, would a normal vige be like this?”


    Lumian fell silent for a long time.


    Seeing this, the forest ranger sincerely said, “In any case, those old men instructed me to prevent anyone from entering this vige. They said that it’s bad luck; it would provoke the demons.”


    Lumian remained silent, refraining from further inquiry.


    Staring at the unfamiliar yet oddly familiar ruins, he turned away from the vige entrance. Step by step, he approached the nearest alpine pasture, the wind howling around him.


    The grass here hadpletely withered, blown away by the wind, leaving behind barren patches of brown soil.


    Lumian surveyed the ruins of Cordu, then located a shack abandoned by the shepherds. Inside, hey down, closing his eyes and remaining motionless.


    If only everything that had transpired before could be dismissed as a dream.


    When he woke, the alpine pasture was vibrant green once more, birds returned to the sky, and Ol’ Tavern bustled with farmers and herdsmen. His sister persistently urged him to study, while Reimund, Ava, and the others pondered uncertain futures, unaware of the life awaiting them…


    …


    The sun shone brightly, yet the air in Port Santa had begun to carry a chill.


    Abruptly, Lumian stood before Lugano and Ludwig.


    “You’re finally back!” Lugano eximed, relief evident in his voice, as if he had encountered a savior.


    Ludwig’s appetite had surged once more, and the 1,000 risot had disappeared faster than anticipated.


    Another week, and Lugano would have to contemte using his own funds.


    He couldn’t allow the child to go hungry; he might resort to eating him!


    Lumian chuckled in response, saying, “Themission is over. I’ll pay the bnce now. Do you want my help to teleport back to Trier, or do you prefer taking a boat yourself or crossing the Dariège mountain range?”


    Lugano fell silent, seemingly grappling with a decision.