Published at 16th of November 2024 3:32 pm

Chapter 1079: The Stele

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At Bansy Harbor, by the Sonia Sea.

After Lumian, Franca, and Jenna arrived, they saw endless ruins.

Every building here had collapsed, with many blackened marks. Wild animals now inhabited the area, occasionally letting out ‘caw caw’ calls of crows.

Lumian had heard from Madam Magician about Bansy Harbor’s destruction, but this was his first time actually coming here.

‘From the information gathered, this used to be the territory of the Medici family, who believed in the God of Weather. There’s a chance that the Weather Warlock Beyonder characteristic could be found here, but they were likely taken by that Red Angel,’ Franca said as she looked around.

Staring at the ruins of Bansy before him, Lumian felt like he was back in the disaster-stricken Cordu.

He stood there dazed for a few seconds before speaking, ‘This is one purpose—to search around won’t cost us much.

‘The other purpose is to find that special location Madam Magician mentioned, use the corpse wax candle, and complete the ritual contract.’

Chuckling, Lumian continued, ‘Since the Celestial Master was able to use Professor and company as a medium to locate the Hidden Sage and help Mr. Fool lock onto the target, the Blood Emperor ritual contract should also be able to find where the remaining Weather Warlock Beyonder characteristic is. As someone who is barely counted as His Blessed, is it too much to ask Him for this small favor?’

‘In theory, it’s possible, but it’s too dangerous. It would be better to accumulate contributions and seek revelations from Mr. Fool. He is the greatest existence at the top of the Seer pathway, and should be able to divine clues about the remaining Weather Warlock Beyonder characteristic.’ Franca was not too fond of Lumian taking unnecessary risks.

Though this is his style—one just can’t avoid being defiled from constantly touching pitch. He should try to control the number of risky ventures.

Jenna nodded in agreement with Franca’s words. ‘You think I haven’t sought revelations from Mr. Fool? Guess what his revelation was?’ Lumian smiled. ‘Bansy!’

‘Alright then,’ Franca grumbled.

‘You two help me guard against any accidents,’ Lumian said, placing his hand on his chest and bowing his head to pray to Mr. Fool.

After the prayer, he activated the remnant aura of the Blood Emperor, the Underworld Daoist seal, and the dark pinhole in his right palm. Guided solely by his spiritual intuition, he began to delve deeper into the ruins.

Franca and Jenna followed several tens of meters behind him, one on each side.

They had walked for nearly a quarter of an hour when Lumian stopped in front of a collapsed building.

The walls of the building were shattered, and only a few charred wooden pieces remained of the entrance. On the ground, which was scorched as if by lightning, were two vivid blood-red human silhouettes.

In the corner next to these two shadows was a simple drawing depicting a tentacled monster.

‘According to the intel provided by Mr. Hanged Man, this was the Bansy Harbor telegraph office…

‘So it’s here after all…’

Muttering, Lumian walked up to the two blood-colored human imprints and took out a pale yellow-red semi-solidified candle in a glass jar.

He then placed the corpse wax candle on the piled-up collapsed walls and ignited it using friction of his spirituality.

Seeing this, Jenna and Franca stopped in their tracks, not advancing further.

They were worried that they too would be affected by the candle’s scent and be passively drawn into the ritual contract, unable to monitor the situation.

Lumian sat down cross-legged and began Cogitation.

The sweet-scented incense diffused in the stillness, gradually penetrating his nostrils, causing his bones to itch and his blood vessels to swell. Suddenly, a veil of dark mist appeared before his eyes.

Unlike previous contract rituals, Lumian’s drifting soul was immediately seized by an invisible force and yanked into the depths of the mist the next moment.

Spinning, turning.

Lumian quickly regained his wits and found himself standing in a spacious, bright house, with rows of seats on both sides, occupied by several people who seemed to be waiting.

Some of these people were dressed normally, while others had very strange attire. Lumian had not yet had a chance to examine them closely when a shout rang out beside him, ‘Ill-hap, make way!’

Lumian did not understand, and turned around with a bewildered look, facing a man who had just entered through the door.

The man was wearing a white shirt, a black vest, and a top hat—a look that matched the ‘Eastern’ style Franca had described. He was holding a piece of paper in his hand.

Lumian stepped aside to let the man pass, watching him run towards the front of the hall without looking back.

Tap, tap, tap—the sound of telegraphing echoed from that direction.

Lumian then realized this was a telegraph office, and the people were waiting for responses.

Many of the waiting individuals had already turned their gaze towards him.

Lumian pulled up his hood to obscure his face.

Compared to a Demoness’s allure, wearing strange clothes was not a big problem.

Outside the telegraph office, the scene suddenly became lively.

There were multi-story buildings of various styles, wide streets, and occasionally black automobiles and the yellow rickshaws Franca had mentioned passing by. Among the bustling people, some wore shirts, suits, and hats, others wore long robes and skullcaps, some in white shirts and black gowns with baggy pants and high-top cloth shoes, their waists bulging as if they were hiding pistols, and some with their heads wrapped in red cloth and holding short batons, while others wore lace-trimmed and ruffled long dresses, or close-fitting skirts with slits on the sides…

Lumian suddenly felt this was as prosperous as Trier.

Ding-ding.

The clear sound echoed as a two-car tram, supported by overhead tracks, raced by.

This scene was very familiar to Lumian—he already knew this was called a trolley.

However, unlike what he had seen before, the passengers on the trolley were all quite normal, their attire indistinguishable from the pedestrians on the streets, and none of them had just a head, dragging a bloody, bony spine.

The location I’ve entered is different from the previous street?

Or maybe that street was originally hidden and requires special methods to see or enter?

My various special attributes, combined with the issues in Bansy, have brought me more directly to this metropolis? Lumian muttered as he looked around.

Even among the people being pulled in rickshaws, there were no ladies with pus-filled, bruised faces concealing them with fans.

Aside from not understanding the language around him and the scarcity of people who resembled his own appearance, Lumian didn’t see any problems with the bustling city before him.

In terms of the effects of the ritual contract, this could be considered a failure, as he had gained nothing and not touched upon any mysteries.

After contemplating for a while, with a feeling of being thrown into a foreign land without a good translator, Lumian followed the guidance of his own spirituality and gradually moved away from the prosperous downtown, entering narrower alleys.

The architectural styles on both sides became more peculiar—stone doorframes, thick black wooden doors, and tall walls with deep courtyards.

Lumian tried extending his right hand to touch a wooden utility pole, only to see his palm pass through it.

Am I in a Soul Body state now? No, it should be a pure spiritual and mental state, but I can still be seen by the people around me… Lumian analyzed as he continued walking, navigating through the tangled wires, laundry lines, and haphazardly piled debris, until he reached an area with many residences.

The first thing that caught his eye was a strangely shaped wooden tower.

It was very similar to the fog core he had seen in previous ritual contracts, but in the sunlight, the wooden tower had lost its indescribable sense of terror and gloom.

In front of the brown tower were large houses and green trees, all enclosed by a yellow wall, preventing anyone from scaling it.

The open wooden double doors at the main entrance saw a constant flow of people going in and out, all appearing to be ordinary citizens.

Is this what Franca called a temple? Lumian pondered for a moment, then followed the crowd into the area enclosed by the yellow wall.

He pretended to be sightseeing as he gradually approached the wooden tower.

Along the way, he noticed that the ‘monks’ of this temple were divided into several categories, with vastly different attire, and they did not seem to interact much with each other.

The two most numerous groups were: one wearing blue robes and tall hats, resembling the Celestial Master style, and the other with shaved heads, wearing either dull gray robes or yellow inner robes with red outer garments.

When Lumian reached a point near the wooden tower, two types of ‘monks’ blocked his path in succession.

Although he did not understand what the ‘monks’ were saying, he got the message: ‘Stop!’

Lumian did not argue, and turned back towards the building he had just passed.

During this process, he discreetly observed the environment, noticing that many ‘monks’ were dispersed along the path leading to the wooden tower, some openly, some secretly, showing signs of using Beyonder powers.

They are guarding the wooden tower, not allowing outsiders to enter? As Lumian made this judgment, he abandoned the idea of trying to teleport there or use the mirror world.

If the wooden tower was indeed the core location indicated by the ritual contract, the guards would be prepared against such methods!

Thinking about how he had previously entered the tower through a mental contract, Lumian found a hidden spot and tried to replicate that state.

As soon as he completed the Cogitation, he suddenly levitated, floating towards the wooden tower through the suddenly spreading dark mist, without any obstruction.

Soon, Lumian reached his destination, but was blocked by an invisible force, only able to descend downwards, preparing to enter through the door.

The floating sensation quickly faded, and the enveloping dark mist dissipated.

This time, Lumian clearly saw the situation at the wooden tower’s entrance.

There stood a weathered stone stele.

Lumian could not decipher the text on the stele, but he understood its meaning as if through spiritual communication.

The inscription read: ‘Gathered the world’s might, halved the ranks of the brave, binding the malevolent dragon here, quelling the calamity it gave.

‘Erected by the Fifth Celestial Master.’

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