Chapter 188: Bond With The Blue Bird

At the same time, Deacon Bram stood a few meters away from Mekah’s desk, staring down at the strange lantern the Exalted Monsters had given the city.

The white wisp floating inside its glass enclosure flickered faintly, casting a pale glow across the wooden surface.

"What do you think, Your Greatness?" Bram questioned, looking up at the old priest. He himself had yet to gather enough Spiritual Energy to create a Spirit Bridge connecting to his Spirit Gate, and although he understood the fundamentals of spiritual cultivation, he still didn’t have spiritual sense.

Mekah stroked his old beard as he examined the object from different angles, his weathered fingers resting against his chin while his eyes remained fixed on the flickering wisp.

"The white wisp inside it is indeed causing spiritual vibrations," he answered after a moment of silence, "but I do not know its intent."

"They must have given this to us for a reason, no?" Bram muttered.

"Indeed," Mekah nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair while continuing to study the strange object. "However, I am certain of one thing. This is not a spiritual artifact."

"It is not?" Bram asked, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

Mekah shook his head before explaining, "I believe it is an arcane artifact."

Bram stared at him blankly for several seconds, struggling to connect the unfamiliar term with anything he had learned during his time in the church.

"What is an arcane artifact?" he finally mumbled.

The old priest turned his head toward the young deacon and answered with a gentle smile, "An arcane artifact uses mana to produce phenomena that can be explained through the study of magic."

"Ah, so we need a mage to check it out," Bram muttered.

"Correct," Mekah replied, and his eyes narrowed slightly as a particular figure came to mind. "Fortunately, we do have a mage in Kilmir."

Bram’s expression grew serious, and he asked cautiously, "Do you mean the Death Flower?"

The old priest nodded.

"Yes. She is the only one who can help us identify what this is."

Bram looked down at the lantern once more, wondering about its purpose.

Some distance away from the church, inside the City Lord’s manor, an entirely different atmosphere prevailed.

BOOM!

Berlic brought his sword down onto the desk before him, and the violent impact sent documents, empty parchments, and several ink bottles flying across the room. Papers fluttered through the air before scattering over the carpet, while one of the bottles struck the floor and spilled its contents across the polished tiles.

"Where the hell are those two?" he barked, his face twisting with fury as he stared at the ruined desk. "I sent them to get rid of some trash, and they still have not returned!"

He tightened his grip around the sword before abruptly turning toward the large doors, where a young maid stood with her hands clasped nervously in front of her.

"Where do you think they are, Amie?" he asked, fixing his gaze on her.

The maid’s face paled, and she immediately lowered her head, her fingers tightening against one another as she struggled to maintain her composure.

"I-I do not know, My Lord," she muttered.

"Of course you do not," Berlic replied coldly, his lips curling into a faint smile that did nothing to soften the cruelty in his eyes. "If you did, you would not just be a mere maid."

"I-I apologize, My Lord," Amie responded, her voice trembling as tears gathered in her eyes.

Berlic tilted his head while observing her reaction, seemingly intrigued by the fear she was trying so desperately to conceal.

"Are you scared of me?" he asked.

"N-No, I am not, My Lord," Amie answered hastily as a tear escaped her eye and fell onto the carpet.

Berlic’s smile widened slightly, and he began walking toward her with measured steps, the sound of his boots echoing through the otherwise silent room.

"Why are you scared of me?" he questioned, his voice remaining strangely calm as he approached her. "Have I ever hurt you?"

Amie shook her head, but the movement was so stiff that it seemed more like an instinctive response than a deliberate answer. Her throat tightened, and she found it increasingly difficult to force words past her lips.

"Did I force you to do something?" Berlic continued, watching her with unsettling patience.

Once again, she shook her head.

He stopped directly in front of her and lowered his voice.

"Did I ever force myself on you?"

"N-Never, My Lord," she whispered, barely managing to get the words out.

Berlic studied her for another moment before placing a hand on her shoulder and leaning closer to her ear.

"So why are you scared of me?" he whispered.

Amie’s entire body stiffened beneath his touch, and she clenched her fingers as tightly as she could while struggling to keep herself from trembling.

"I am not scared of you, My Lord," she insisted, her voice growing weaker with every word.

For a moment, Berlic remained silent, allowing the tension to linger between them. Then, a satisfied smile appeared on his face, and he gently patted her shoulder as though she had finally given him the answer he wanted.

"Good."

He withdrew his hand and turned around, walking back toward his destroyed desk while Amie remained rooted to the spot.

"I like that you are smarter than the others who came before you," he remarked casually, stepping around the scattered papers before returning to his throne.

"T-Thank you, My Lord," Amie muttered, lowering her head even further.

Yet, as she spoke, an unwanted memory surfaced in her mind, bringing with it the image of the personal maid who had served Berlic before her.

The woman’s horrified face remained etched in her memory, as did the desperate screams that had once echoed through the manor’s corridors.

Amie could still remember the terror in those eyes, the helplessness in that voice, and the dreadful realization that no one would come to save her.

The person standing before her now was not the kind City Lord everyone believed him to be. The gentle smiles, courteous words, and generous gestures he displayed before others were nothing more than a mask concealing the monster beneath.

He was a monster wearing human skin, and Amie knew better than to oppose him.

Meanwhile, Berlic fell back onto his throne and rested his sword against the armrest, his previous smile disappearing as he recalled his trusted knights, Deamon and Berman.

"Was I too kind to those two that they are now mocking my patience?" he mumbled, tapping his fingers against the armrest as his irritation grew.

Neither of them had returned, and the longer he waited, the more his patience wore thin.

He leaned back, closed his eyes, and exhaled through his nose before voicing the thought that had been bothering him.

"Was one not enough for them?"

A few hours later, Young Stella and Elias sat in chairs beside Monica’s bed while the mage examined the former’s Auracle.

Elias stared at his third wife with a thoughtful expression as he considered whether he should form a bond with her.

He had already established connections with Natasha and Stella, which meant Monica was the only one left.

Now that he had discovered that the connection itself posed no inherent danger, he believed forming one might prove useful in more ways than one.

Perhaps she would be able to talk to him just as Natasha did, allowing them to communicate even when they were separated by distance or circumstances.

The possibility was certainly tempting, but Elias hadn’t acted on it immediately because he had other concerns to consider.

He hadn’t attempted Mental Whisper on Stella earlier because of her mental instability. Since the skill operated mentally, he was worried that interfering with her already complicated mental state might produce adverse effects.

However, Monica’s situation was different, and he didn’t believe there was any reason to fear the same problem with her.

The only thing holding him back was the poison inside her body.

He still didn’t know how the connection might interact with it, and the uncertainty made him hesitate despite his growing curiosity. If something went wrong, he had no reliable way to undo what he had done.

After all, he couldn’t break the connections even if he wanted to.

The screen that had appeared when he had first asked about ending the connection had been a false one created by Envy. It had been designed to reassure him that he could sever the bond whenever he wished, making him less vigilant about her intentions.

Elias remained seated beside Stella, his fingers resting against the arm of his chair as he weighed the risks and benefits.

Meanwhile, Monica continued to examine the complicated inner layer of the Auracle.

As the session approached its end, Elias finally made a decision.

Elias took a quiet breath and focused his attention on Monica.

[Ding!]

[A connection beyond time-space is being formed between Elias Crimson and Monica Ragnar.]

The familiar sensation washed over him as his existence seemed to stretch beyond the boundaries of his body, and an invisible thread extended toward Monica, bridging the distance between them.

He waited for the process to finish, prepared for the possibility that the poison might react in some unexpected manner.

[The connection has been formed.]

Elias waited.

For several moments, nothing happened, and Monica’s condition showed no obvious change. There was no visible reaction from the poison, nor was there any sign that the connection had caused problems.

He gradually relaxed and remarked inwardly, ’So nothing out of the ordinary—’

Right then, his consciousness was yanked deeper into his body.

A few seconds earlier, Monica’s mana projection had been moving across the maze of formations and symbols as she tried to make sense of them.

Given how much time she had devoted to this, it had become somewhat easier for her to understand most of the basic formations and symbols. However, she still hadn’t found answers to her questions, and she believed this was because she lacked a deeper understanding of Aura’s nature.

She knew what everyone else knew. However, according to arcane principles, Aura could not be used to create formations, and at that moment, she was standing inside a magical structure far beyond anything she had ever seen, one created using that very energy.

It was simply against the rules of magic, yet she wasn’t delusional enough to deny its existence.

’I need to understand the structure of Aura and Mana. By comparing them, I might be able to recreate these formations using Mana.’

However, there was one big problem. To examine Aura, she needed to examine an Aura Core, and entering one was just as dangerous as entering an Auracle, if not more so.

So it was simply impossible.

Monica let out a reluctant sigh, though no breath came out because she was just a mana projection.

Shaking her head, she continued examining the Auracle, but suddenly, she felt a jolt pass through her body. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

’W-What?’ Her expression turned troubled, and her mana projection crumbled into translucent blue dust as her consciousness returned to her Spiritual Space.

"What just happened?" she mumbled, looking around, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

She furrowed her brows. "What was that?"

Right then, her senses suddenly stretched beyond her, and she felt as though she had become connected to something or someone else.

She blinked a few times and followed the connection with her consciousness. Her eyes widened as she appeared in a pale white spatial world with a solid red sphere floating before her.

"... What the fuck is going on?" she muttered, utterly dumbfounded by everything.

"Monica?" A familiar voice called out to her from behind, and she froze.

She slowly turned her head and felt her spiritual body tremble. "E-Elias?"

Elias stared at her and asked with a confused look on his face, "How are you he—"

Before he could finish, Monica rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him.

"Elias!"