Novel Full Chapter 300 - 300 Another Symbol
300 Another Symbol
Upon hearing Mr. Poet’s question, Lumian was caught off guard. A shiver ran up his spine and pierced his brain like an icy dagger.
Whether it was Aurore, who had knocked him out in the dream and led him to the sacrificial grounds, or the deputy padre, Michel Garrigue, who had done it in reality, they all had been secretly corrupted by the lizard-like elves—evident from them crawling out of their mouths!
If Lumian hadn’t become the vessel, forced onto the altar and stood before Aurore, Termiboros’s descent ritual might have succeeded. Aurore wouldn’t have pushed the vessel out the altar, ruining the rite, and Lumian’s Mr. Fool mark wouldn’t have been activated!
This realization left Lumian’s mind in chaos.
He never imagined that the lizard-like elf was behind the sabotage of the ritual. They had insidiously corrupted Aurore and the deputy padre, making them blind to important matters and missing their last chance to save themselves!
“W-what does it want? What’s its true motive?” Lumian asked, feeling a pang of pain.
The poet’s voice, veiled in mist, replied calmly, “I’m just interpreting the symbolic meaning of your dream’s elements. I can’t fully reconstruct the truth.
“But I can offer some speculation.
“The faction represented by the lizard-like elves aims to use the large-scale sacrifice of the Inevitability believers to summon an angel for some hidden purpose. However, they don’t want Termiboros to descend upon this land for real.
“There must be a conflict between them and the entity known as Inevitability.”
Lumian nodded, finding it the most logical explanation.
He couldn’t help but furrow his brow.
“What hidden motives do they have?”
“That’s one of the paths for your subsequent investigation,” the poet said with a smile. “Decryption isn’t divination or prophecy. You need enough information for deduction. You can’t make wild guesses.”
Lumian nodded slightly, eager to catch the padre, Guillaume Bénet.
The poet leaned forward, placing his elbows on the wooden table, hands still clasped together.
“I’ve already deciphered the more crucial symbolic elements. There’s only one left.
“Your dream itself holds a strong symbolic meaning.”
“The dream itself?” Lumian pondered for a few seconds but couldn’t grasp the specific symbolism.
The poet’s voice deepened, no longer abnormally ethereal but more magnetic.
“It symbolizes protection.
“Back then, due to intense emotional upheavals, your mind was on the verge of collapse, and you fell into a deep slumber. If not for the comfort and hope brought about by the dream of reality, perhaps you would have collapsed completely. Driven by your self-destructive tendencies, you would have acted irrationally until your death.
“Moreover, we can confirm that you don’t have the ability to produce a dream of reality, nor can you draw investigators into that dream. The sealed Termiboros can’t do it either. In other words, the dream of reality is a result of external interference.
“We haven’t grasped the specific abilities of the High-Sequence Beyonder of the Inevitability pathway. We can’t determine if it was done by the Inevitability Blessed symbolized by the owl or if it was influenced by other factions. Given the previous interpretation and the situation in reality, all of them have sufficient motives.
“In short, besides the entity known as Inevitability, no one else wants to see Termiboros truly descend upon the land.”
Lumian instantly recalled the area around the blood-colored mountain peak in Cordu’s ruins that induced slumber.
Before he could bring up the subject, the poet added, “Considering that the area that forces others into sleep is around the sacrificial ground and not the house where you sleep, I’m inclined to believe that it’s influenced by other factions. Their main purpose is to disrupt the ritual, and pacifying you just comes with it.
“If it was done by the Inevitability Blessed symbolized by the owl, the location of the abnormal area would be completely opposite.”
The faction represented by the lizard-like elf did it, or someone else did. Is there another faction? The more Lumian understood the situation, the more he realized that the truth of the Cordu disaster was far more complicated than he had expected.
He fell silent, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking.
“What’s the significance of the empty baby cradle in the administrator’s castle?”
The poet took a few seconds to contemplate and then replied, “It’s a rather minor symbol. It represents the child of the Great Mother. Based on the information you provided, it seems that the child might have entered our world secretly during the final sacrificial ritual, aided by another blood-related son hidden by Madame Pualis. It then left Cordu unnoticed, leaving behind the empty cradle.”
The spawn of the Great Mother… Lumian hissed to himself, realizing the seriousness of the situation was on par with Termiboros’s descent.
Inevitability’s faction had taken a significant risk and worked tirelessly for nearly a year, all for the sake of obtaining a sealed angel. Ultimately, it served the Great Mother’s purpose.
With those thoughts, Lumian let go of his worries.
The saints and angels of the Tarot Club and the Church of The Fool would undoubtedly handle this matter. It was beyond the concerns of someone like him, a mere Sequence 7.
Besides, this issue primarily revolved around the sacrificial ritual and had little to do with the truth behind the Cordu disaster. Lumian’s main focus was tracking down and capturing the padre, Guillaume Bénet.
He then inquired, “Why was the entire Cordu village destroyed, while only my home remained intact?”
The poet pondered for a moment and answered, “I believe it symbolizes Aurore’s nostalgia, reluctance, and regret.
“After the ritual, she should have regained some clarity. In the midst of the fusion of the villagers’ flesh and blood, she instinctively protected the building that represented her beautiful past life.
“Of course, it’s possible she also leveraged other forces interfering with the ritual.”
Nostalgia… Reluctance… The beautiful life of the past… Lumian fell silent, lost in thought.
Observing this, the poet unclasped his hands and said, “I’ve deciphered all the symbolic elements of your dream.”
“Thank you, Mr. Poet.” Lumian stood up and, following the Church of The Fool’s customs, pressed his hand to his chest and bowed slightly.
For a moment, his mind turned adrift, seeing the poet, the wooden table, the surrounding bookshelves, walls, the primitive forest outside, and all kinds of insects fade away like a dream, returning to deep darkness.
In an instant, the darkness vanished, and Lumian found himself standing at the edge of a marketplace.
In the distance, there were white buildings with dark black or earthy yellow bell towers and spires. Nearby, cloud-like tents and herds of cows, sheep, and horses were scattered around.
Most of the people passing through the market had dark skin, as if they were exposed to the sun every day. Among them, men wore felt hats and dark-red or sky-blue robes, while women wore colorful multi-layered gowns.
A chilling wind howled as Lumian gazed at the snow-covered mountain peak in the distance, momentarily lost in his thoughts.
His conversation with the poet and what he had just experienced felt like a vivid dream.
No, it was a dream!
That’s why he couldn’t see Mr. Poet clearly.
I didn’t realize I was dreaming at all. When did the dream start? It felt eerily similar to the dream I had in the ruins of Cordu. Could it be that Mr. Poet’s divine path has the power to make others have vivid dreams? And could the abnormal area around the blood-colored mountain be related to similar abilities? Lumian was shocked at first, but then numerous thoughts rushed through his mind.
Just then, Madam Magician appeared before him, wearing a beige shirt, a brownish-yellow dress, and dark brown leather boots.
“Do you want to go back to Salle de Bal Brise now?” the Major Arcana card holder asked.
Lumian casually asked, “Where are we?”
Madam Magician gazed at the azure sky and pure white clouds and replied, “We’re in Star Highlands’ Rapus, once a significant city in the Highlands Kingdom, also known as the City of White.”
Star Highlands… Lumian recalled the Rose School of Thought and recounted the Werewolf attack and Gardner Martin’s arrangements to Madam Magician. Finally, he asked, “Did the Rose School of Thought enter the market district because of the Tree of Shadow? And didn’t they gather detailed information about me from the Bliss Society?”
Madam Magician chuckled.
“You should have asked these questions earlier. The gentleman who helped you decipher the dream symbols is an expert at dealing with the Rose School of Thought. Alright, I’ll ask him for you now.”
With that, she vanished in front of Lumian. A few minutes later, she reappeared in the same position, unnoticed by the people passing through the market.
Madam Magician smiled at Lumian and said, “Based on that gentleman’s experience, although the Mother Tree of Desire and its worshiping organizations show clear purpose, sufficient decisiveness, accurate foresight of the future, and excellent planning on a higher level and at the macro scale, when it comes to specific events, they often appear chaotic, disorderly, and even mad. It reflects the nature of the evil god itself.
“In simpler terms, the organizations worshiping the Mother Tree of Desire don’t cooperate or communicate well. They sometimes act erratically and unpredictably. It’s a common situation.
“However, in the past year or two, that gentleman noticed some rudimentary cooperation among these organizations. Some members of the Devil families are even involved.”
“Devil families?” Lumian had never heard of such a term.
Madam Magician casually explained, “The families that control the Devil pathway—the Criminal pathway. Some of them show signs of worshiping the Mother Tree of Desire.”