Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability

712 “Accusation”

Lumian stood beside Moran Avigny’s villa, wearing a wide-brimmed round hat and a black tweed coat. He gazed at the garden, its few withered leaves rustling in the breeze, and said to Franca, “Keep your distance later.”

As he spoke, Lumian’s eyes turned silver-black once more, allowing him to observe the fate tributaries corresponding to Franca’s future.

The tributary tainted with a faint black color was unrelated to their upcoming infiltration. Given the current circumstances, sneaking into Moran Avigny’s villa and leaving a Mirror Mark on the full-body mirror in his study didn’t seem to pose a high risk of death.

However, Lumian knew better than to let his guard down. After using the Eye of Calamity several times, he understood that a single black fate tributary didn’t necessarily mean there was only one hidden death calamity lurking.

According to Franca, numerous death calamities were concealed further along the fate tributary, too blurry for Lumian to discern or differentiate.

In other words, even though there was presently just one faintly black-tainted fate tributary connected to their infiltration of Moran Avigny’s villa, when Franca made her decision and tried to enter, transforming the harmless fate tributary into the main path, a black tributary symbolizing a deadly calamity might still emerge.

Lumian’s profound realization about this was: The fate of the future was variable and ever-evolving.

Of course, certain aspects were destined to remain constant. For instance, death was the inevitable fate awaiting most humans.

“No need to worry, I’m not new to this,” Franca assured him, confident in her infiltration skills.

Assassin 101: Infiltration!

Without another word, Lumian activated the mark and morphed into a shadow creature, melding into the shadows cast by the garden’s plants.

Franca stepped forward and disappeared into the wind-stirred shadows.

The pair swiftly and stealthily made their way to the side of the villa.

At the same time, Moran Avigny was attending a ministerial meeting. His wife had gone to an art salon with her lady’s maid, leaving only a handful of valets, maids, gardeners, and chefs in the villa.

The Avigny family didn’t live there. Only the immediate family of the Minister of Industry was permitted to reside in the government-provided villa long-term. Moran Avigny’s three children had either already married and moved out or were attending university in the Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative. They only returned home on weekends.

For Lumian and Franca, this was when the target location’s security was at its most vulnerable. After all, Moran Avigny was the VIP. The covert protection detail would undoubtedly stick close to him.

Lumian emerged from the shadows in the corner and instructed Franca,

“Wait here and keep an eye out for any trouble.”

“Got it!” Franca agreed without protest.

Lumian concentrated on the Demoness of Pleasure’s fate tributary for a few moments before shifting back into a shadow creature and silently slipping into Moran Avigny’s villa.

He couldn’t view his own future fate, even with the aid of a mirror. His only option was to infer his fate by watching his companions.

Franca concealed herself in the shadows and patiently waited.

It wasn’t long before Lumian reached Moran Avigny’s study, navigating it as if it were his own home. He had witnessed Moran Avigny use the full-body mirror there to access the mirror world on multiple occasions.

As for his familiarity with the layout, that was thanks to the detailed security map provided by 007.

The winter sunlight around 4 p.m. was dim. The study was a mix of light and darkness, evoking a strong sense of dusk. The silence had long been a constant melody in this space.

Lumian meticulously searched the study from within the shadows but found no traps or hidden individuals.

Only then did he revert to his human form, breaking free from the shadows and reappearing in front of the full-body mirror.

As the black mark activated, Lumian reached out his right palm and pressed it against the cold, hard glass.

A blood-colored handprint instantly materialized, reversed from Lumian’s right palm as if it belonged to someone else.

The inverted, sinister blood-colored palm print quickly faded, blending into the mirror and vanishing.

Just as Lumian was about to pull his right palm back and leave, a hand abruptly extended from the full-body mirror and seized his wrist.

The hand was a healthy white, with long, powerful fingers.

It yanked with tremendous force, catching Lumian off guard and sending him crashing into the glass mirror.

At some point, the mirror had turned ethereal, shedding its corporeal form. Lumian’s vision went dark before illuminating to reveal numerous dark passageways resembling a spiderweb.

In the area corresponding to the current mirror, an ordinary-looking man stood at the edge. He raised his brass revolver, aimed it at Lumian, and pulled the trigger.

Clad in a dark tweed suit and a half top hat, with a glass-like cufflink fastened to his sleeve, he wore a faint smile, as if mocking Lumian for not anticipating the possibility of Moran Avigny’s bodyguard hiding in the mirror.

Bang!

A bullet gleaming with ghostly green light shot towards Lumian.

Lumian’s figure abruptly vanished. The bullet struck the afterimage he left behind and flew into one of the dark, empty tunnels.

In the next instant, Lumian swiftly materialized behind the ambusher and, without hesitation, harrumphed.

Two beams of white light shot out from his nose and struck the ambusher.

The ambusher’s eyes snapped shut, and he crumpled to the ground.

Midway through, his eyes darted around and he snapped out of his daze.

Thud! He crashed to the ground, transforming his body into a shadow.

The shadows disintegrated and spread in all directions, entering various dark tunnels.

Immediately after, the ambusher stealthily materialized in an empty passageway, his form shrouded in faint white fog.

Lumian’s figure was reflected in his misty eyes. Before Lumian could sense it and turn to look, the ambusher spoke in a strange language that could stir the forces of nature, “You’re guilty!”

Lumian had never encountered this language, but he clearly understood its meaning. His body suddenly froze, as if under an invisible restriction.

The ambusher opened his mouth again.

“You blasphemer!”

Suddenly, the entire mirror world froze, and the dark, ethereal passageways transformed into tiny amber insects.

Once again, Lumian heard a terrifying voice that seemed to come from an infinite distance.

Vaguely, he “saw” three figures.

The three figures sat cross-legged, one facing left, one looking straight ahead, and the other looking right. Their hands were in different postures.

One was heavy, one real, and one ethereal. They were in three different states, constantly moving, changing, and interchanging around a silver circle.

A majestic and resounding voice reverberated, causing Lumian’s mind to buzz as he lost consciousness.

Amidst the blurry, vivid pain, the dazed Lumian felt a familiar burning sensation on his left chest. His right palm alternated between burning and freezing.

Gradually, he regained consciousness.

In a dark tunnel that had solidified, the ambusher witnessed silver-black warts erupting from Lumian’s body, emitting sinister patterns that resembled viscous liquid. At some point, a strange, cold wind swept through the surroundings. Darkness squirmed in the depths of the different tunnels, as if a monster was about to crawl out.

The ambusher’s body stiffened, becoming increasingly sluggish, with a faint white fog barely discernible within.

After an unknown period of time, the man finally survived the most dangerous moment. He felt his body again and regained his vision and hearing.

As Lumian’s warts and patterns faded, the ambusher instinctively felt a lingering fear.

How did he commit blasphemy?

Which deity did he blaspheme against?

Why didn’t he lose control?

I’ve never encountered such a situation before!

The Beyonder powers possessed by the ambusher allowed him to discern the target’s crimes and “accuse” him of various charges. The damage and effects of different crimes were completely different, and the accuser couldn’t predict them beforehand. They could only make a guess based on their experience from previous “cases.”

This was the first time the ambusher had encountered a situation where he nearly succumbed to the overflowing influence of the deity after the sinner was punished by a deity for blasphemy!

Fortunately, he recovered before the target.

The ambusher raised the brass revolver once more and aimed it at Lumian, who was hunched over in pain.

Just as he pulled the trigger, Lumian’s head snapped up, his expression contorted with ferocity.

Bang!

A bullet shimmering with starlight shot out from the muzzle, locked onto the target’s body.

Almost simultaneously, Lumian’s shadow came to life and flipped upward.

Crack!

The black shadow shattered like a mirror. Along with the starlight, it caved in and was obliterated.

After briefly disappearing, Lumian materialized behind the ambusher and harrumphed once more.

He had used Shadow Animation in time, and the shadow had triggered Franca’s Mirror Substitution!

This was why Lumian had Franca infiltrate the villa and stay outside. Relying on Mirror Substitution required maintaining a certain distance.

It turned out his shadow could also share Mirror Substitution!

Two beams of white light shot out, causing the ambusher to close his eyes again.

This time, Lumian didn’t give the enemy a chance to quickly wake up. He extended his right foot and blocked the enemy, preventing him from falling.

Simultaneously, he drew his revolver and pressed it against the target’s forehead.

The ambusher’s eyes darted around, and he awoke to the terrifying pressure emanating from the muzzle.

He forced a smile, handed over his revolver, and whispered, “I’ll give this to you. Can you let me go?”

Lumian’s thoughts raced as he took the revolver and nodded. “Okay.”

He then holstered his revolver.

The ambusher maintained a humble and ingratiating smile as he turned around and walked deeper into the dark tunnel.

Suddenly, Lumian heard Termiboros’s magnificent voice.

“It’s best not to let him go.”

Uh… Lumian’s eyes narrowed as he instantly sensed something was off.

Why did I agree to that deal just now?

Why would I let him go?