Novel Full Chapter 752 - 752 In the Darkness
752 In the Darkness
....752 In the Darkness
Dammit!
Though Lumian had toyed with the idea of taking risks, he hadn’t truly made up his mind.
The sudden extinguishing of his white candle prompted him to swear under his breath, instinctively preparing to activate the black mark on his shoulder and teleport out of the catacombs.
At that moment, a bone-chilling cold tinged with slight pain surged through the palm of his right hand.
This snap of pain brought him to his senses, thankfully without any further unpleasant changes to his body.
Indeed… Lumian instantly calmed down, abandoning the idea of using his Spirit World Traversal ability.
His suspicions were confirmed!
He clenched his right hand discreetly, ensuring the prominently-marked Underworld Daoist seal wasn’t visible to anything lurking in the darkness.
After the elderly, decaying, and clearly unwell catacombs administrator mistook him for a kindred spirit, Lumian suspected it was due to the Underworld Daoist seal.
Given that the Samaritan Women’s Spring was closely related to the Underworld Daoist and the catacombs of Trier were likely built to contain its overflowing influence, the administrators took turns guarding the massive tomb chamber leading to the spring.
Since catacombs administrators affected by anomalies could navigate the dark catacombs without a lit white candle and not disappear, theoretically, he should be able to as well, given his Underworld Daoist seal!
Of course, this was extremely risky. A wrong guess could mean dying without leaving a trace, causing Lumian to hesitate despite his wild impulse.
In the pure darkness, where his eyes saw nothing, Lumian felt as if he were in Trier’s subterranean river, immersed in cold, damp, heavy, and silent waters.
Yet, he breathed easily; his body and soul strangely drawing air from the dense, dark “waters,” sustaining his existence.
He seemed like a fish in the deep sea.
The darkness, like flowing water, layered and pressed down, isolating this space from the surrounding areas and the outside world.
The next moment, Lumian heard the old administrator’s raspy, indifferent voice.
“Recently, three people tried to approach the spring, but I stopped them.”
Three people… Lumian’s spirit lifted as he asked, “Who were they?”
“One time it was a Blessed of darkness and death with a Hunter,” the old administrator described in his own way.
A Blessed of darkness and death with a Hunter.. Isn’t that Madame Hela and me? You still remember us… Lumian realized, followed by muttered criticisms.
He had thought this elderly administrator, unlike the more active ones like Kendall and nearing a corpse-like state, didn’t recognize people by sight but by sensing their presence— Lumian had encountered two catacombs administrators guiding visitors when he arrived at the Entrance to the Old Ossuary, and they didn’t see him as one of their own. Instead, they advised him not to wander alone and always keep a white candle burning for light.
“Who was the third?” Lumian pressed on.
Was it Harrison, or Monette, the incarnation of Amon active in these subterranean catacombs?
The old catacombs administrator responded in a monotone, husky voice, “An outsider, he felt similar to us but also different, so I stopped him.”
Similar yet different… an outsider… Lumian pondered these key descriptions and surmised it was probably Harrison from Resurrection Island!
“What did he look like?” Lumian asked, controlling his emotions, seemingly calm.
He couldn’t see through the darkness, not even the outline of the old administrator, but he sensed the other was right in front of him, no more than two meters away.
He then heard the old administrator reply: “I’ve been an administrator for so long, I’ve forgotten many things. Even death itself vanishes here, let alone our memories. I can’t remember what he looked like, only that he didn’t resemble an Intisian, nor a Loenese or Feysacian.”
After a brief pause, the catacombs administrator continued in his flat tone, “I should go back to rest now…”
Lumian did not try to stop him, nor did he ask further questions.
Although he hadn’t heard any footsteps, nor sensed any movement ahead, a very clear thought suddenly struck him: The person has already left.
He didn’t look like an Intisian, a Loenese, or a Feysacian… An outsider… Someone who had been to the fourth level of the catacombs in recent months… Lumian replayed thecatacombs administrator’s responses in his mind over and over.
Suddenly, he remembered something: Franca had mentioned that she encountered a man in the catacombs who she suspected came from the world of the Celestial Master—the world they had transmigrated from. Her judgment was based on the man’s appearance, which closely resembled the people from that world and was distinctly different from those of the Intisians, Loenese, Feynapotterians, and Feysacians!
So, the person Franca met was the one the elderly administrator persuaded to leave? And
that person could very well be Harrison from Resurrection Island…
/s Resurrection Island actually a node where two worlds converge?
The reason the nautical chart leading to Resurrection Island is incorrect is because it lacks mystical details; even if one reaches the designated sea area, only danger is encountered, with no sight of the goal?
This would nicely explain Franca’s divination result that the “chart is genuine” and why adventurers have failed to locate Resurrection Island. The charts are indeed accurate, but they don’t record the method to open the “Island’s Door”!
If this is the case, there should be a deeper explanation for why Franca and the others were transmigrated, and for the purpose of the Resurrection Islanders appearing on the North and South Continents…
The good thing now is, Franca has seen someone who might be Harrison and has drawn a corresponding portrait through a ritual, which will help us in our future search.
Heh heh, Franca and Jenna’s exploration yielded quite a lot of crucial information about many important matters, filled with a sense of being arranged.
This might not have been that entity’s doing, but it’s highly likely related to Monette, who often haunts this place…
Lumian was particularly puzzled about why the True Creator or Amon valued this matter so much. Their previous “help” was mainly about combating the evil gods beyond the barrier and didn’t involve issues from another world.
Hmm, would that Celestial Worthy be counted as one of the evil gods beyond the barrier?
Does He come from the Celestial Master’s world?
/s this also considered a part of the evil gods’ invasion?”
Lumian speculated briefly before pondering another question: Whether to inform Franca, 007, Madame Hela, and other members of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society about this.
Lumian could already picture what would happen: Including Franca, some members of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society would desperately set out to sea, searching for Resurrection Island marked on the sea chart, failing to find the island, but finding it being even more dangerous!
But Lumian preferred to see Franca remain as she was: conflicted about her gender but generally happy.
After a moment of silence, Lumian laughed a bit out of character, whispering self-mockingly in the environment like the dark depths of the sea, “Would you avoid seeking a way to resurrect Aurore because of danger and others’ expectations?
“Would you give up resisting because of danger and others’ expectations?
“Would you refuse to merge with the bloodline of Omebella because of danger and others’ expectations?
“No!”
Lumian made up his mind and began to focus on his surroundings.
He couldn’t see anything but faintly sensed figures wandering in the darkness, felt hands reaching out to him, grabbing his arms, ankles, neck, and body, yet not having any tangible effect.
No, there was one thing—Lumian felt distinctly colder, to the point where, with the physical traits of a Reaper, he almost couldn’t help but constrict his pores and shiver lightly.
He also heard faint, painful, despairing cries but couldn’t discern their specific directions.
Are these the people who vanished in the catacombs before? Lumian tried to listen closely, to find one or two of the missing, to understand their current state, but it was to no avail.
Suddenly, he shivered.
The cold and the dead silence seeped into his mind.
His thoughts became slightly sluggish, and his memories of certain things grew a bit fuzzy.
The Underworld Daoists seal just prevents me from disappearing on the spot, from even dying without a trace, but it can’t stop me from being slowly eroded by the abnormalities here, like those catacombs administrators? And, my erosion is clearly faster than theirs…
Lumian snapped a flame into existence, lighting the white candle in his hand.
The darkness, cold, weight, silence, and dampness retreated as the light spread.
Lumian glanced at the candle in his hand, nodding and muttering to himself, “I just interpreted the Underworld Daoist’s seal as a kind of alternative white candlelight, but now it seems, they’re not the same, fundamentally different. One stems from an anomaly being sealed, the other leverages the power sealing this place?”
As thoughts swirled, Lumian, holding the burning white candle, made his way back along the original route.
Upon returning to the Entrance of the Old Ossuary, he saw that the few university students who had been there were gone.
“Scared off, just like that?” Lumian scoffed softly, leisurely leaving the catacombs and returning to Place du Purgatoire.
In the Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative, Apartment 702 on 9 Rue Orosai.
Franca, who was about to go out to gather information on the Mirror People, saw Lumian again.
“You’re here again? It’s the third time today!” the Demoness of Pleasure asked, her lips twitching slightly.