Chapter 253 - 253 Root of the Problem
253 Root of the Problem
Upon hearing Charlotte’s words, Lumian grasped the problem in an instant.
As soon as he reached the market district and attempted his first Summoning Dance, he unintentionally summoned Susanna Mattise, who had been drawn to Charlie, into his room.
At the time, Susanna seemed eager to possess him, but she instinctively sensed the danger lurking within the seal and refrained from acting. This mirrored the behavior of the peculiar creatures Lumian had summoned before. It appeared that only by compelling them would they dare to take hold of him.
Hence, Lumian didn’t see anything amiss then. Even when he later encountered Susanna Mattise again and gained deeper insight into the Bliss Society, he failed to connect the dots.
But now, he realized his oversight.
Susanna Mattise was fundamentally different from the strange creatures he had previously summoned!
The dissimilarity didn’t lie in her status as a Sequence 5 evil spirit who had failed to attain godhood, but rather in her possession of reason and the ability to think. Besides being extremely fanatical and persistent, she could also lead and develop a secret organization!
When such an evil spirit sensed the tremendously dangerous power sealed within Lumian’s body, even if she didn’t immediately recognize it as angelic-level corruption, she would have left in confusion and sought revelation from the evil god she believed in!
By the time she grasped the situation, Lumian, possessing the strength of a Low-Sequence Beyonder equivalent to an angel, would be irresistibly appealing to heretics skilled in sacrificial rituals. He would be no less enticing than a hundred million verl d’or abandoned on the street before a Scrooge.
Had it not been for Lumian’s quick thinking, temporarily stunning her with Fallen Mercury and deceiving Susanna Mattise during their second encounter, the situation might have reached its conclusion before the official Beyonders arrived.
For Charlie, an ordinary person, to successfully descend from the fifth floor to Lumian’s door and seek help despite Susanna Mattise’s threats and lingering presence, it seemed more than just mere luck.
One couldn’t trust the words and emotions of an Actor, especially those who were particularly good-looking!
In Charlotte Calvino’s performance, Lumian had been scanning the surroundings, hoping to utilize a Hunter’s instincts to find an exit from this peculiar space.
Yet, aside from the entangled tree roots blanketing the ground, the colossal slowly-growing brownish-green tree, and the oil painting-like blue sky with white clouds, there was nothing else.
In such an environment, Lumian’s Pyromaniac instincts made him stop hesitating. He released his grip on Mr. K’s finger and flung it into the air.
Almost simultaneously, the semi-illusory crimson Fire Ravens condensed around him took flight, each tracing an elegant arc as they soared toward the illusionary scene where Charlotte Calvino stood and the fog of the past lingering on the surrounding branches.
Charlotte stepped out of the grand palace, suspected to be a scene depicting Emperor Roselle’s affair, and entered the White Maple Palace during the Sauron royal era. There, a Beyonder who had transformed into a man due to a potion but hadn’t changed his sexual orientation was scrutinizing the noble ladies’ spouses.
The rumbling sounds persisted, yet Charlotte effortlessly evaded the onslaught of Fire Ravens. The fog-shrouded scenes of the past remained unyielding, as if they were truly nonexistent. However, the brownish-green branches that bore them showed signs of scorching and charring.
The Tree of Shadow was, after all, a tree, and thus susceptible to combustion!
The only issue was that Lumian’s Fire Ravens inflicted minimal harm upon it.
In an explosive moment, Mr. K’s finger detonated like a bomb, transforming into a gruesome rain of flesh and blood that draped Lumian in a hooded robe of crimson.
To Lumian’s dismay, Mr. K didn’t appear immediately. It was uncertain whether it would take time to sense his presence or if the Tree of Shadow had isolated this space from the real world.
Charlotte ventured into the illusory scene of a torrential downpour, where a few naked figures sprinted about. Her white silk dress seemed drenched, adhering to her body and accentuating her unusually exquisite form.
She bestowed Lumian with a smile, her eyes akin to serene lakes tinged with timidity, innocence, and purity.
A searing flame coursed through Lumian’s being, igniting from his head down to his very core.
Lumian’s heart surged with longing. He darted between the entangled roots, heading toward the brownish-green tree and the captivating figure of Charlotte Calvino.
Charlotte didn’t traverse the various illusory scenes. Instead, she stepped onto a tree branch below and leaned against the brownish-green trunk. Her body trembled slightly, as if yearning to hide but finding no escape.
Lumian’s eyes blazed with a reddened fury as his gaze fixated upon Charlotte’s sparkling eyes, moist lips, graceful neck, and alluring curves. His thoughts became a chaotic haze.
Thus, he failed to notice Charlotte’s abdomen and legs sinking into the brownish-green trunk. He failed to observe the crack forming, unveiling a colossal moist flower.
The vivid red flower bloomed gradually, akin to an enormous mouth anticipating its prey.
Lumian lunged toward Charlotte, propelled by his fervor.
Charlotte couldn’t help but smile.
At that very moment, a muffled explosion erupted from Lumian’s right pocket.
Boom!
Underneath his blood-colored robe, a ball of flames burst forth, ripping through his pocket and igniting his shirt, causing an agonizing pain to course through Lumian’s waist.
Lumian’s eyes regained some semblance of clarity. Swiftly, he reached out and grasped Charlotte’s wrist, keeping a minimal distance between himself and the moist flower.
Having long been aware of the Mother Tree of Desire’s ability to awaken various desires, how could Lumian not have been on guard against Charlotte’s seduction?
However, in order to prevent the other party from detecting his defenses prematurely and setting a trap, he chose not to directly soak the Mysticism Smelling Salts in cloth and place it near his nose. Nor did he turn the dagger around, preparing for the collision that would bring him back to his senses. In their current predicament, such methods held little reliability, for Charlotte might not allow him to truly pounce on her.
Hence, Lumian opted to create a small fireball with a delayed explosion in his pocket, all the while gripping Mr. K’s finger!
If he remained unaffected and the fireball neared detonation, he could choose to dispel it and create another.
The small fireball inflicted negligible harm upon him. Its primary purpose was to awaken him through pain.
As for the resultant burn injuries, Lumian paid them no heed.
Pyromaniacs held no fear of such trivialities!
In an instant, Lumian seized Charlotte’s wrist, and he caught a flicker of fear on her face.
Without delay, two serpent-like crimson flames burst forth from Lumian’s palm, searing their way along Charlotte’s arm toward her body and head.
Instinctively, Charlotte tilted her neck back, emitting a pained groan as her skin swiftly turned black from the scorching flames.
Just as Lumian was on the verge of engulfing her entirely, a wave of intense danger washed over him.
He attempted to pull Charlotte to the side, but she appeared to meld with the brownish-green tree. No matter how hard Lumian tugged, he couldn’t extricate her.
Reluctantly, Lumian abandoned his futile efforts and lunged to his right.
With a muffled thud, a tree trunk as thick as a wine glass descended from the sky, impaling the ground teeming with tangled roots like a javelin, its tip quivering violently.
Lumian glanced upward and beheld Susanna Mattise, her turquoise hair cascading around her, her emerald eyes and scarlet lips.
She possessed a translucent quality, standing amidst the dense and ethereal canopy of the tree, blending seamlessly with it.
Both the brownish-green trunk and the outstretched branches bore colossal wet flowers in pale hues, flourishing and blooming.
…
On Avenue du Marché, inside the khaki-colored four-story building that housed the parliament member’s office.
In a corner, Jenna observed Hugues Artois, garbed in elegance, leading his secretary Rhône and others through the gathering. With a glass of champagne in hand, he offered consolation, made promises, and delivered impromptu speeches with mere words. In response, he received sincere gratitude, unveiled dependence, and instinctive flattery.
Jenna couldn’t help but recall a question Lumian had once posed to her: “Do you wish to sit here and watch as the murderers responsible for your mother’s death and the destruction of your happiness revel in champagne, indulge in dance parties, and inflict more heartbreak on innocent families?”
Unconsciously, Jenna’s fists clenched, her knowledge of the truth fueling an uncontrollable anguish.
However, she understood the need to restrain herself. Acting impulsively wouldn’t yield results. She had to endure.
This was because following the proper procedures, she couldn’t take action against a parliament member without substantial evidence. And if she desired to seek justice independently, her adversaries boasted several Beyonders who had been bestowed with an evil god’s boon and were protected by official Beyonders and armed personnel.
All she could do was endure and await the future!
…
Within the confines of Auberge du Coq Doré, ensnared by branches and vines, Franca stood near the staircase, her face flushed and her eyes glistening as she battled to suppress the overwhelming desire coursing through her veins.
Her right hand trembled as she retrieved the canister of Mysticism Smelling Salts obtained from Rentas. With a twist of the lid, she raised it to her nose.
Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!
A series of sneezes erupted, marking Franca’s triumph over her desires and the gradual return of her rationality.
Swiftly scanning her surroundings, she realized that Lumian, who had been mere steps away, had vanished.
Taking note of the unnatural transformations plaguing the motel and the adjacent streets engulfed by colossal trees, Franca clenched her teeth and arrived at a resolution. The tree crowns above seemed to grow increasingly ethereal as they reached skyward, extending into an otherworldly realm.
She retrieved two objects from her possession.
They were a pair of tarot cards.
One depicted a man and a woman raising their cups in a greeting—the Two of Cups. In the center, a wooden staff coiled by twin serpents stood prominently.
The other card portrayed an angel sounding a trumpet, calling forth the resurrection of the departed—the Judgment card!