694 A “Deal”
The Dream Festival came to an abrupt end? Lumian jolted upright, realizing he was holding the strange golden mask he had received from Hisoka.
For a moment, he couldn’t tell if he was still dreaming or if the mask had somehow followed him from the dream into the waking world.
Lumian turned to look behind him.
Reaza and Maslow, who had died during the Dream Festival, were lying in the middle of the street, just starting to regain consciousness.
Taking advantage of the moment while they gathered their wits and slowly got to their feet, Lumian focused his attention on their luck.
He could see clear signs of death on both of them. Their fates were about to undergo a rapid transformation, irreversibly tainted by darkness.
Reaza’s luck, in particular, was changing even more swiftly and dramatically, like a river suddenly plunging over a cliff to form a waterfall.
At that instant, Reaza remembered what had happened to him during the Dream Festival. Uncontrollable fear washed over his pale, cold face.
Pop, pop, pop. Huge, mucus-oozing warts erupted all over his body, just as Lumian had witnessed in the dream.
Seeing Reaza’s eyes turn frenzied and his body start to disintegrate, Lumian raised his free right hand, pointing it at Reaza’s mouth as if it were a gun.
A condensed bullet of blazing white flame shot from Lumian’s fingertip, shattering Reaza’s teeth as it entered his mouth.
Boom!
Reaza’s head split apart inch by inch, engulfed in roaring flames.
The vice-captain of Port Pylos’s patrol team collapsed heavily, his body covered in a thin black suit made up of countless slimy warts.
Lumian turned to Maslow, who was shocked by Reaza’s grotesque transformation and terrified by the death he had experienced in the dream. Calmly, Lumian asked, “Who was he working for?”
As he spoke, Lumian tucked the golden mask into his Traveler’s Bag and checked to make sure the Symphony of Hatred and his other belongings were still there.
Everything was accounted for, including the food he had thrown at Ludwig.
Maslow paused for a few seconds before answering, “We’re all part of the Numinous Episcopate.”
Numinous Episcopate… Lumian chuckled. “Do you still believe in Death?”
Wasn’t Death already dead?
Maslow considered the question for a moment before saying, “Reaza told me that Death is on the verge of returning. There have been signs recently that prayers are being answered again.”
Hearing Maslow’s words, Lumian nodded pensively.
“Which faction of the Numinous Episcopate do you belong to?”
As far as he knew, the Numinous Episcopate was divided into numerous factions. There were the Royals, led by the descendants of the Eggers family, who sought to restore the Balam Empire’s rule; the Artificial Death faction, which had somehow recreated Death itself; and the less influential Repose and Underworld factions.
“We’re from the Royal faction,” Maslow admitted.
“Did you infiltrate the patrol team on purpose?” Lumian asked nonchalantly.
Maslow shook his head.
“No, Admiral Querarill has been secretly working with us.”
Admiral Querarill, the de facto ruler of Matani, is closely tied to the Numinous Episcopate’s Royal faction… Combined with the Church of Earth Mother and the remaining Intis faction, this must be what Franca meant by dancing on three eggs. Judging by the situation, Reaza wasn’t a traitor after all… It’s no wonder Admiral Querarill didn’t send backup. If the Numinous Episcopate and the Church of The Fool can’t handle the problem, it won’t matter how many people he sends… His mind now clear, Lumian asked, “Was participating in this Dream Festival a direct order from the Royal faction’s upper ranks?”
“Yes.” Maslow glanced at Reaza’s body, now unrecognizable as human, and said, “Apparently the order came straight from the Empress.”
Empress… The Pale Empress of the Numinous Episcopate’s Royal faction? Lumian instinctively scanned his surroundings.
A sudden thought struck him. He drew the straight sword he had bought in Port Santa, picked up Reaza’s clothes, and quickly searched through the items he had left behind.
There was no sign of the death-corroded golden mask or the crystal-like skull.
Even though the skull had turned into a goat in the dream and the golden mask had sunk into the tranquil river, Lumian reasoned that it had still been a dream, after all. No matter how unusual it was, it was ultimately just a dream. When someone died, they died in reality, but the same might not hold true for objects. It was similar to how some of the food Ludwig had eaten in the dream had reappeared in the Traveler’s Bag.
Even if the items were going to disappear, it would have to happen later. For now, they should definitely return to the real world!
However, Reaza had nothing on him.
A chill ran down Lumian’s spine. Lowering his voice, he asked, “Termiboros, did you notice anything?”
Termiboros’s majestic voice echoed in Lumian’s ears.”Do you only now know fear?”
“Tch.” Lumian felt a lingering sense of dread, but he didn’t let it show. “Was the Pale Empress watching?”
Termiboros replied in a deep tone, “It’s not just Her.”
Her? The Pale Empress is an Angel? Lumian composed himself and turned his attention back to Maslow.
Just as Maslow was wondering why Louis Berry was talking to himself, the other party suddenly asked, “Why did Reaza kill you?”
Maslow stayed quiet, offering no response.
Lumian chuckled. “Did you betray him?”
Maslow’s lips trembled, but he didn’t say a word.
Lumian smiled casually and said, “It doesn’t matter. If you don’t want to answer, don’t. You won’t be alive much longer anyway.”
Maslow’s face turned ashen as he considered the ramifications of his death during the Dream Festival.
Lumian nodded, then added, “Go on and do whatever you want. Just don’t do anything bad. It’ll make you die sooner.”
With that, Lumian glanced at Reaza’s corpse, which was starting to produce the Beyonder characteristic. Greed welled up inside him, but he suppressed it with an Ascetic’s self-
control.
He decided that regardless of whether Reaza had been a traitor or not, his Beyonder characteristics should be left for Camus and the Matani patrol team.
To stop himself from giving in to greed and with a grave matter coming to mind, Lumian’s expression shifted subtly. He activated the black mark on his right shoulder and teleported away.
Maslow stared at the street that had been empty a moment before and the lights that had been stirred by the explosion, looking as though his soul had left his body. With a dazed and despondent expression, he turned and walked toward the forest outside Tizamo.
…
In the second-floor suite of the Brieu Motel.
The instant Lugano woke up, he noticed he couldn’t move his right forearm.
It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ll be fine after a psychiatric treatment or two. The people in Tizamo can be healed by Mass without needing Beyonder effects… Lugano tried to console himself as he endured the pain in his right forearm.
Just then, he heard hurried footsteps coming from the living room outside his door.
Crack!
The door to Lugano’s bedroom flew open. In the crimson moonlight pouring through the window, Ludwig appeared, dressed in blue pajamas with yellow stars and a matching nightcap. He was clutching a half-withered, blood-stained, dark red heart.
Badump! Badump!
Lugano could hear his own heart pounding, and he felt like his soul was about to abandon his body out of sheer terror.
Had Ludwig come back for seconds because he had woken up early and hadn’t gotten his fill during the dream?
A moment later, Lugano saw a figure float in through the doorway.
The figure was semi-transparent, wearing an elaborate, opulent, black dress. There was no head on its neck, just a clean cut. In its hand, it held four identical blonde heads with red eyes and beautiful features.
“Return…” “It”… “To”… “Me”…
The four heads uttered different words in ancient Feysac, forming a complete sentence.
Ludwig’s image was reflected in their eight crimson eyes.
“Mine!” Ludwig ran to Lugano’s bed and spun around, looking like he wanted to bring the heart to his mouth, but he seemed to hesitate.
The four heads held by the translucent figure spoke one by one, “Idiot”… “Eating”… “Your”… “Own”… “Brain”…
“That”… “Is”… “My”… “Heart”…
“If”… “You”… “Don’t”… “Return”…
“I”… “Will”… “Turn”… “You”… “Into”… “Pig”…
Almost at the same moment, Lumian materialized next to Ludwig, taking in the scene and hearing the corresponding words.
Lumian glanced at the strange-looking lady, then at Ludwig, who wore a resolute expression as if he would defend his food to the death. After a moment’s consideration, Lumian said,
“Madam, perhaps you could try trading him other spiritually rich materials for it.”
In Ludwig’s current state, Lumian didn’t dare try to take the item from him by force.
The lady in the intricate black dress, holding four blonde, red-
eyed heads, went silent.
After a short while, one of her heads spat out a gleaming gold coin and held it between its teeth.
A gold coin? You want to buy it with a gold coin? Ludwig doesn’t care about money… Lumian was about to point this out to the lady when he suddenly realized the gold coin looked familiar.
It was a Loen gold coin, worth 1 pound.
Uh… Lumian glanced over at Ludwig.
Ludwig wavered.
After a few seconds, he finally held out his hands and gave the half-withered dark red heart to the woman’s head.
The blonde, red-eyed head let go, dropping the gold coin into Ludwig’s hand. Quickly, it sank its teeth into the half-withered dark red heart.
The translucent lady stepped back and vanished from Lugano’s bedroom.
Ludwig hastily popped the Loen gold coin into his mouth, as if trying to hide it in his stomach. But then he seemed to think better of it and fished it back out. He wiped it off on his pajamas and carefully put it in his pocket.
Just as I thought, it’s the same as Jenna’s lucky gold coin… A Loen gold coin closely connected to Mr. Fool? Lumian nodded to himself, comprehension dawning.
A twinge of disappointment ran through him.
Two people close to me have gotten lucky gold coins. Why don’t I have one?