Chapter 682 - Chapter 682 Cull

Chapter 682 Cull

Chapter 682 Cull

Unable to control the dream anymore, Amandina opened her eyes and woke up.

Beside her, Padre Cali snapped out of his slumber, his human form once again becoming hazy and indistinct.

Instinctively, he transformed into a Wraith, as if losing all restraint. Stiff black hair even sprouted from his body.

Reflected in Padre Cali’s eyes was Lumian’s figure—Louis Berry, with his black hair, green eyes, and golden straw hat, holding a revolver aimed directly at the Wraith’s forehead.

Bang!

Lumian smiled and pulled the trigger, a golden Purifying Bullet exploding from the muzzle and instantly heading straight for the pallor in the Wraith’s forehead.

Cull!

Simultaneously, Lumian waved his empty left hand at Padre Cali, as if to say, “Bye, you won’t be missed!”

The Purifying Bullet exploded, and golden flames instantly ignited the ethereal Padre Cali’s entire body.

Padre Cali couldn’t even scream, his agonized thoughts manifesting as an invisible gale sweeping outwards.

Lumian endured the backlash, watching with a grim smile as the enemy was consumed by the purifying flames, reduced to scattered ashes.

Lumian felt his Reaper potion digest a little more.

Using Cull to reap a powerful foe’s life was a core principle for Reapers—the higher their Sequence and strength, the more potent the acting effect.

With the addition of Cull, the relatively ordinary and common Purifying Bullet ended the life of a Wraith with just two strikes.

Lumian found it inexplicably amusing to witness the true incineration of the Padre Cali.

Why do I always encounter fallen Eternal Blazing Sun padres and cleanse and purify them?

Is this repayment for my past faith?

As these thoughts raced through his mind, Lumian glanced at the risen Amandina and asked with a smile, “What did he say?”

Amandina’s first reaction was to check the wound on her shoulder. She exclaimed, “It’s completely healed, not a trace left?”

If it weren’t for her torn clothes and sore shoulder, she would have imagined herself to be uninjured.

Miss Amandina, don’t act as if you’ve never seen the world. Although you’re a believer in the Eternal Blazing Sun and won’t seek treatment from the clergyman of the Church of Earth Mother unless you are particularly ill, there are many Feynapotterians in Matani. Haven’t you come into close contact with them? Lumian criticized her and looked at Amandina coldly without responding.

Lugano, on the other hand, saw the beautiful girl’s reaction and explained smugly,

“That’s the power of a Doctor from the Planter pathway.”

Amandina expressed her gratitude, then recounted her conversation with Padre Cali while massaging her shoulder to relieve the lingering sourness.

At the end, she spat at the spot where his ashes had fallen.

“He became the Demon’s mouthpiece, using its power to violate Robert and the others.

“Luckily, he preferred men. Otherwise…”

Recalling how she had frequented Saint-Sien Cathedral over the years and had been a girl with limited knowledge, far from adulthood, Amandina shuddered inwardly. She sympathized with Robert and the others, but she also felt fortunate.

Lumian had another question in mind.

Could Hisoka’s Wraith abilities also originate from the Dream Festival and the strange black tomb, rather than a direct boon from the Mother Tree of Desire?

That would explain a few things better.

As far as Lumian knew, when evil god believers prayed for boons, they needed to perform a ritual and offer sacrifices. The higher the level of the boon they prayed for, the higher the requirement for the sacrifice, and the larger the ritual.

As a member of Port Pylos’s patrol team, Hisoka could cover up one or two sacrifices, but it was difficult to suppress all the sacrificial incidents. It was just like how Hisoka had only completed one serial murder case in Port Pylos.

Previously, Lumian had believed that he had relied on Mad Lady’s help to complete the sacrificial rituals in the Southern Continent’s even more chaotic places. But now, it seemed that there was no need for such trouble. He just needed to touch the cold corpse once a year during the Dream Festival.

Hisoka and Padre Cali have participated in at least five Dream Festivals and have become Wraiths for some time, but they haven’t made a breakthrough since then… Is this because the cold corpse can only bestow a boon up to Sequence 5? Did Hisoka obtain the large amount of gold and something from the Nois family’s Demon to wait for this year’s Dream Festival to complete the corresponding matters and obtain a higher boon? Lumian turned to Robert, who had been dragged nearby, and asked for confirmation, “He’s a Spirit Medium?”

“Yes,” Amandina replied. “Padre Cali said Robert gained powers by touching that black boulder too. But why am I a Nightmare while he’s a Spirit Medium?”

Higher-level, composite power… Just as the Great Mother can bestow three different powers, Apothecary, Planter, and Villain, respectively… Lumian wasn’t surprised by this situation at all. Camus and Rhea were as puzzled as Amandina.

Lumian couldn’t be bothered to explain this complicated and high-level problem. He turned around and said to Rhea,

“Your dream projection should still exist. Be careful from now on. The question now is whether the death of your dream projection will affect your life.”

Rhea nodded thoughtfully.

Lumian shifted his gaze back to Robert, recalling the Demon that had assisted Padre Cali.

That should be the Nois family member who established a connection with Hisoka…

Demons don’t do ‘good deeds’ for no reason. Whether it’s establishing a connection with Hisoka or responding to the Padre Cali’s ritual, it must have its own motives. Although witnessing a padre of the Eternal Blazing Sun Church gradually degenerate should be commendable and interesting for a Demon, this isn’t a sufficient reason for its close involvement…

What does it want during the Dream Festival?

The cold corpse in the black ancient tomb can bestow a Prisoner pathway boon, and Prisoners are adjacent to the Criminal pathway which Demons are part of…

Lumian roughly grasped the situation and muttered to himself, “The crucial question now is, where do the gravekeepers go during the Dream Festival? Why aren’t they protecting the black ancient tomb anymore?”

No one could answer him.

Seeing him staring at the unconscious Robert, Amandina hesitated before saying,

“Can you let him go? He’s a victim too, don’t kill him.”

Am I a homicidal maniac in your eyes? Lumian replied with amusement, “As long as Robert doesn’t seek revenge and try to kill me to avenge Padre Cali, I won’t waste my spirituality on him.”

Phew… Amandina sighed in relief, then muttered while rubbing her shoulder,

“You’re so cold-blooded. I thought you’d kill me to deal with the padre. That shot hurt, you know!”

Lumian scoffed.

“Between being possessed by a Wraith until you die and getting shot, which would you have preferred?”

“I don’t care what you think or the sacrifices—I made the right choice to save you, didn’t I?”

Amandina, who was just grumbling out of habit, asked with interest upon hearing Lumian’s response, “So you’re willing to make big sacrifices and make correct choices to help important people?

“If, and I mean if, my desires were inflamed by a Demon and I’d become a monster without venting them, would you sacrifice yourself to help me?”

Lumian chuckled and said, “Don’t have such unrealistic expectations of me. But don’t worry, I’ll find someone else willing to make that sacrifice for you.”

His gaze swept over Camus, Lugano, and the unconscious Robert.

Amandina just muttered, “How lame…”

Camus inwardly sighed, feeling he’d escaped the beautiful dream world.

Lumian looked at Robert again and said to Amandina, “Wake him up and talk to him. I need a favor from him.”

If Robert refused, Camus, the interrogation specialist, was there to persuade him.

“Alright,” Amandina replied crisply, jolting Robert awake and informing her fiancé of their current predicament.

She consciously omitted mentioning Padre Cali’s death to maintain the illusion that the Wraith had fled.

“Will you help if I let you go?” Robert asked warily as he struggled to his feet.

Lumian gestured to Camus and Rhea. “You may not trust me, but do you trust the patrol team?”

Robert fell silent for a moment before saying, “What’s the favor?”

Lumian chuckled. “Go to Twanaku’s house and do something for me.”

…

Brieu Motel, second floor.

The man in the dark gray suit and the woman in the feathered hat heard soft chewing sounds coming from the corridor—a stark contrast to the shouts, cries, and moans echoing through the motel, as if it shouldn’t be happening during the Dream Festival.

Suddenly, the chewing stopped.

Almost instantly, the man in the gray suit jumped up as if stabbed in the waist by a red-hot iron rod.

His face tense with sweat beading on his brow, he sprinted to the first floor, traversing the entire staircase in the blink of an eye.

He ran all the way out of the Brieu Motel to the intersection before stopping, his expression twisted with fear and lingering dread.

“What’s wrong?” the woman in the light-colored dress asked, suddenly appearing beside him with confusion and seriousness.

The man in the dark gray suit panted heavily.

“Phew, phew, phew, didn’t you feel it? That terrifying malice!

“The feeling of my heart being ripped out, my tongue torn away, my brain churned into thick soup…”