Chapter 106 - 106 The Ritual Begins
106 The Ritual Begins
Lumian noticed that the black-robed man’s face was nearly identical to his own, save for a few subtle differences.
The depths of the stranger’s light-blue eyes held a faint silver-black hue. It was unclear whether the shadow of the hood affected the man’s complexion or if his skin was naturally a shade darker.
“Who are you?!” Lumian blurted out in shock, his words muffled by the cloth in his mouth, leaving only indistinct movements.
The black-robed man smiled without introducing himself, turning and walking towards the padre.
Lumian strained to follow, desperate to learn the man’s identity, his purpose, and why he had appeared in the dead Warlock’s tomb.
This was crucial to him.
Although the padre’s ability to retain memories within the loop was surprising, it wasn’t inexplicable. Lumian’s theories about the nature of the loop could account for such an anomaly. After all, Madame Pualis was a prime example.
However, the black-robed man’s sudden appearance was entirely unexpected. It wasn’t his presence that was startling; Lumian had always suspected another individual, apart from the owl and the occupant of the coffin, to be the mastermind behind Cordu’s abnormalities.
What truly shocked him was the striking resemblance between the black-robed man and himself. It suggested the man could be another version of Lumian.
His theories about the loop’s nature failed to explain this baffling revelation!
Something’s not right! Lumian struggled to lean forward, but the ropes held him fast, causing him to crash onto the altar with a thud.
His nose, which had ceased bleeding, began to flow anew, and the red, swollen wounds grew more prominent.
Undeterred, Lumian pressed on. Unable to use his limbs, he relied on Dancer’s incredible flexibility, slithering towards the black-robed man with great difficulty.
His mind raced with thoughts.
I have to find out who this black-robed man is and why he’s here!
This must be a manifestation of the loop’s essence. Unraveling this secret could provide hope of using the loop to escape the current predicament and ultimately resolve the anomalies plaguing Cordu!
Drip, drip. Blood from Lumian’s face stained the ground a vibrant red. His body smeared the crimson hue in all directions as he writhed in his struggle. The scene was chaotic and reeked of blood.
He strained to reach the black-robed man, but couldn’t utter a sound. His face, contorted by pain and anxiety, was a horrifying sight.
The black-robed man, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Lumian, glanced down and instructed the padre, Guillaume Bénet, “Begin the ritual.”
“Alright,” Guillaume Bénet told Pierre Berry at the edge of the altar. “Bring Lumian to the altar.”
Pierre Berry strode over, gripped Lumian under his arm, and hoisted him up.
No! Lumian thrashed with all his might, like a fish freshly yanked from the water.
Pierre Berry nearly lost his grip due to Lumian’s “slipperiness.”
The gentleness in Pierre’s eyes quickly vanished, replaced by a ferocious and brutal glint.
His strength surged as he forcefully restrained Lumian and flung him onto the altar.
Afterward, Pierre Berry glanced at Lumian and chuckled.
“You better hope you die during the ritual rather than live through it. You’ll regret it, I promise.”
Is this a response to my earlier Provocation? Just as this thought crossed Lumian’s mind, he saw Aurore, clad in a simple white robe, approach his side.
She leaned against the altar adorned with lilacs and tulips, her gaze vacant as she stared at her brother.
The cathedral’s villagers swarmed forward, forming a semi-circle around the altar.
The padre retrieved two grayish-white candles, positioning them at the corresponding locations of Aurore and Lumian.
Next, he placed a candle beneath his feet, creating a pattern on the altar with two candles above and one below.
After a few moments, the padre ignited the three candles in sequence, from top to bottom and left to right, using his spirituality.
A faint sweetness wafted into Lumian’s nostrils, leaving him disoriented. The scene felt inexplicably familiar.
…
Ryan, Leah, and Valentine stealthily approached the side of the Eternal Blazing Sun Cathedral, clutching a brownish-yellow suitcase.
Hidden in the shadows, they peered through the stained glass to see the Eternal Blazing Sun’s altar transformed. They spotted Lumian bound on the left and Aurore standing on the right. They saw the padre facing the siblings, a lit grayish-white candle beneath his feet, flanked by the enigmatic black-robed man and Pierre Berry.
Valentine’s fists clenched as a golden light flickered in his eyes.
Leah cast a sidelong glance at him, concerned her companion might be consumed by rage.
Fortunately, Valentine was a seasoned Purifier who had completed numerous missions. He understood what needed to be done and what to avoid.
Ryan averted his gaze and lowered his voice. “We’ll move closer to the altar, shatter the glass, and launch a surprise attack. Our goal is to grab Lumian and Aurore and be out of the village within a minute.
“If we don’t achieve our objective in that time, abort the mission and flee to the river. Trigger the loop proactively.”
“Alright,” Valentine and Leah murmured in hushed tones, each nodding in agreement.
Ryan added, “Valentine, ready Sunlight. We can’t hold back any longer. We have to deploy 2-217 now.”
“No problem,” Valentine responded as Leah retrieved a box of matches.
She manipulated the silver bell on her veil and boots, sprinting around Cordu’s square at breakneck speed while tossing matches at various points.
This marked a predetermined escape route.
Magicians didn’t perform unprepared.
Once Leah had completed her task, the trio of official investigators cautiously circled beneath the stained glass to the side of the altar.
Valentine peered inside and told Ryan, “The ritual is about to commence. We must act now.”
Ryan, also observing the cathedral’s interior, furrowed his brow and asked, “Did you notice anything off?”
Leah hastily replayed the scene she had just witnessed in her mind, replying with apprehension, “I can’t hear anything from inside!”
They were a mere three meters from the closest villagers, yet they couldn’t discern any sound emanating from within. The villagers were clearly engaged in animated conversation!
Ryan’s eyes narrowed, and a suspicion instantly took shape in his mind.
He stood up and rammed into the stained-glass window before him, disregarding that the cultists inside the cathedral might discover his presence.
Clangs echoed as the delicate glass remained unbroken, but the villagers within the cathedral seemed oblivious to the chaos outside.
As Ryan summoned the Dawn Armor and Sword of Dawn, Leah sprinted in circles outside the window.
This time, not a single deliberately uncontrolled silver bell jingled.
From Leah’s perspective, this implied there was no danger; yet, how could there be no threat emanating from the cathedral?
Thus, she concluded that the correct answer was: The situation was extremely dangerous!
It was so dangerous that the silver bell Sealed Artifacts were utterly disrupted or dared not react!
Bang!
The Sword of Dawn, forged from light, struck a pane of stained glass but failed to have any impact. It seemed as if the entire cathedral was shrouded by an invisible, terrifying force that barred outsiders from entry.
A brilliant pillar of light, encircled by flames, descended from the sky as Valentine spread his arms. However, it didn’t appear inside the cathedral as he had anticipated. Instead, it landed outside the stained glass, causing ripples.
It appeared that the interior and exterior were entirely isolated.
Ryan made a quick decision and said to Valentine and Leah, “Let’s try the Sealed Artifact. If it doesn’t work, we’ll leave the village to trigger the loop.”
Ryan didn’t suggest immediate retreat because he hoped to barge in and save Lumian and Aurore. He suspected that once the ritual truly began, the loop might be affected. In that case, they wouldn’t be able to leave Cordu or restart everything there.
Wasting no time, Valentine summoned the illusory golden flames.
With two pops, Ryan opened the suitcase and retrieved the Tanago Scarecrow, its skin already half-covered.
He pressed the Scarecrow’s front against the stained glass and untied the thick black cloth.
A pair of human-like eyes appeared on 2-217’s face, devoid of emotion and embedded within the brownish-green straw.
The eyes swiveled and locked onto Pons Bénet, standing at the edge of the altar.
The villain froze, then bolted toward the window.
As he ran, his body vanished, leaving his clothes to flutter to the ground and cover his leather shoes.
A piece of skin-covered flesh emerged on the Tanago Scarecrow’s neck, fusing with the stalk below.
“It works!” Ryan and the others exclaimed, elated.
This meant that breaking into the cathedral wasn’t impossible, and the altar’s protection was not impregnable!
…
“The horoscope is about to change!”
“It’s finally happening!”
“…”
Amidst the villagers’ uproar and the surrounding scent of gray amber, cloves, musk, and tulips, Lumian experienced an uncanny sense of déjà vu. Relying on Dancer’s flexibility, he forced his upper body up despite being bound.
The next second, he saw the padre open his mouth and shout in ancient Hermes, “The mighty Circle of Inevitability!”
As soon as the words left his lips, darkness enveloped the cathedral’s interior, and the villagers fell silent.
The orange flames on the three candles were reduced to the size of pepper granules, now tainted silver and black.
Lumian’s mind buzzed as the familiar burning sensation ignited in his chest.
His vision blurred, and the vacant-eyed Aurore, the solemn-looking padre, and the hooded black-robed man appeared before him in layers beneath the dazzling gold dome.
A sharp pain stabbed at his head, as if something was being yanked from the depths of his memory. It felt eerily similar to the scene unfolding before him.
The sense of familiarity and déjà vu surged within Lumian’s heart, dozens or even hundreds of times stronger than before.
Thump, thump!
He could hear his heart pounding.