102 Transfer
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Ryan retreated, barely managing to parry Shepherd Pierre Berry’s relentless onslaught.
Pierre Berry’s eyes were bloodshot, the gentleness gone, replaced by a ferocious rage.
As sinister arms, either pitch-black or ghostly white, reached from the shadows to ensnare Ryan, Pierre Berry swung his axe at Ryan’s head.
This time, Ryan didn’t parry or retreat. He didn’t even raise the Sword of Dawn.
Instead, he twisted his body, allowing the eerie arms to grasp his legs and Pierre Berry’s axe to strike his shoulder.
Clang!
Spiderweb-like cracks spread across the silver pauldron, light flaking off and dissipating.
Grimacing in pain, Ryan genuflected, plunging the Sword of Dawn into the floor.
He knew he’d been separated from his allies for too long. He needed to regroup at any cost.
The strength of a team surpassed that of any individual!
In a split second, the light-infused two-handed broadsword detonated.
It shattered into countless light fragments, morphing into a hurricane that barreled towards Pierre Berry.
Panic flickered in Pierre Berry’s eyes at the devastating blow.
Ignoring the malevolent arms, he retreated into his own shadow.
A fierce storm of pure light engulfed the area, slicing shadows and evil into shreds.
As an area-of-effect attack, Hurricane of Light inevitably impacted Ryan’s surroundings, despite his best efforts to direct it towards his enemy.
Silently, the walls of Lumian’s and Aurore’s bedrooms crumbled, reduced to tiny fragments in the terrifying storm.
Near the balcony, pitch-black vines hanging from the roof writhed like tortured weeds. Even Padre Guillaume Bénet, suspended in midair, had no choice but to hastily dodge.
Bloodied scratches marred his body as he fled Aurore’s house.
Rumble!
Half the roof had been obliterated, the second floor pockmarked with gaping holes. In many places, the stove below was visible.
Leah was also caught in the storm of light, her figure rapidly withering and shrinking, transforming into a paper figurine.
When the tempest subsided, she reappeared in the study, barely intact.
Ryan knew she had Paper Figurine Substitutes, allowing him to unleash such a brutal attack on Pierre Berry in a confined space.
As for Aurore, Lumian, and Valentine, their positions offered some protection from the attack. Ryan had tried to control the storm’s direction, with limited success.
After assessing the situation, he decided to use this decisive attack.
Crimson moonlight and faint starlight streamed through the ruined roof. Ryan scanned the area but saw no sign of Aurore or Lumian. Leah, pale-faced, was rushing towards him. Valentine lay unconscious on the balcony, numerous wounds from the Hurricane of Light, but none lethal.
Seeing his battered allies, Ryan stopped searching. He grabbed Leah’s shoulder and leaped to the balcony.
With one hand, the Warrior hoisted Valentine and jumped from the Lumian residence.
Relying on his not-yet-shattered Dawn Armor to withstand further ambushes, he raced towards the edge of Cordu Village, fleeing to the nearest mountain pasture.
They had a plan: if they couldn’t defend Aurore and Lumian’s homes, they’d retreat to the pasture.
There, they could use the terrain to their advantage, escape by leaping off the cliff, and trigger the cycle.
Padre Guillaume Bénet hovered above, unable to match the Dawn Paladin’s top speed.
Beneath him, Shepherd Pierre Berry emerged from the shadows at the edge of the house.
His dark robe was shredded, the hood long gone. His face, chest, and legs bore deep gashes, blood oozing relentlessly. It was a chilling sight.
Had he not swapped his shadow with that of a villager at the crucial moment, he’d be dead with his body torn to shreds!
The villager who had served as his pawn was now undoubtedly a mangled heap of flesh and blood.
…
As Ryan obliterated the Abyss Demon Flower with his Hurricane of Light, Valentine’s paralysis waned. He regained consciousness before they left Cordu Village.
“What’s the situation?” he inquired, his voice muffled by the wind.
Ryan, running at full speed, couldn’t elaborate. He replied tersely, “Help Leah first!”
Valentine glanced at Leah, cradled in Ryan’s other arm, and noticed her pallid, ashen face.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he stretched out his hand with great effort and placed his palm on Leah’s shoulder.
“Sun!”
He cried out in ancient Hermes.
Glistening golden droplets materialized out of nowhere, raining down on Leah.
Her expression contorted, and steam rose from her body.
Within seconds, Sybil’s ethereal figure was expelled, her face filled with shock and terror.
She couldn’t fathom how she’d been ejected from Leah’s body.
Immediately after, ghostly golden flames erupted from the void, engulfing the bizarre spirit like a candle, reducing it to liquid droplets.
Sybil shrieked and cursed, but couldn’t evade her fate of being purified.
This time, she failed to reincarnate in Valentine’s body.
“Vile creature!” Valentine muttered under his breath.
...
…
Shepherd Pierre Berry looked up at Guillaume Bénet, who hovered above, and asked, “Should we chase them?”
Despite his injuries, he refused to surrender.
Guillaume Bénet pondered for a moment and responded, “No need. Our priority lies here.
“They won’t make any moves in the short term. They’ll only observe and assess the situation. That’s enough for us.”
As he finished speaking, he furrowed his brow and whispered, “Sybil’s dead.”
“Can’t she be ‘reborn’?” Pierre Berry asked, surprised.
He wasn’t particularly distraught over his sister’s demise.
Guillaume Bénet couldn’t help but curse, “I warned her not to use Rebirth in front of the three official Beyonders. Rebirth at this level is inherently countered by the power of the Sun pathway, but she didn’t listen.
“Imbecile! What a waste of the Lord’s gift!”
…
...
Lumian’s eyes snapped open, taking in the wispy gray fog and the familiar ceiling above.
He had awoken within the dream ruins after losing consciousness.
Gasping for breath, Lumian struggled to sit up straight.
As Aurore’s attack struck him, he had been filled with despair, thinking it was better to just surrender.
She could reclaim the beautiful life she had granted him, along with the five years she had given him.
Phew… Lumian exhaled sharply as two realizations pierced his thoughts.
That wasn’t Aurore. She was possessed by a monster!
To give up now would be to abandon her to the creature and snuff out her last hope!
Lumian rose to his feet, his resolve steeling within him.
He glanced toward the window and spotted a bottle of liquor, a honeysuckle flower, some grapevines, and fern powder.
Had that woman sent these materials? Had she witnessed the attack? Why hadn’t she… Lumian shook his head, dispelling his intrusive thoughts.
In this dire circumstance, he could only rely on himself and his allies. No matter how powerful others may be, they were useless to him now!
Wasting no more time, Lumian retrieved the instruments he’d used to brew the Hunter potion and poured 50 milliliters of liquor into a beer mug.
He added the honeysuckle flower, grapevine powder, and fern powder, one after the other. Lastly, the repulsive “stone” with its dark, flowing liquid surface.
A sizzling sound accompanied the dissolution of the Provoker Beyonder characteristic, and the honeysuckle flower vanished.
The colorless liquor in the mug turned a deep black, becoming viscous. The mere sight of the potion made Lumian want to hurl it away and stomp it into oblivion.
He steadied himself, using shallow Cogitation to calm his nerves and focus.
Moments later, Lumian snatched up the beer mug without hesitation, gulping down the foul, pungent Provoker potion.
Setting the mug down, he immediately felt his insides grow heavy, as if plummeting.
Drawing on his experience, Lumian sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, bracing for the next transformation.
His breaths became heated, his emotions veering wildly between anger, sorrow, frustration, and exhilaration.
Simultaneously, a voice—infinitely distant yet intimately close—assailed his ears, drilling into his temples like an iron spike.
Familiar, searing pain engulfed Lumian’s mind, but he couldn’t shake certain thoughts.
I must succeed!
I must unlock the secret of the dream!
I must save Aurore!
I must shatter the loop in Cordu!
Enduring the scorching, tearing sensation and the illusion of losing control, Lumian didn’t open his eyes or alter his posture.
He felt like a tiny vessel in a tempest, battered by waves and gales. Powerless, but not yet submerged.
After what felt like an eternity, the pain began to ebb as the bloodthirsty, insane thoughts receded from Lumian’s consciousness.
He opened his eyes, knowing he had ascended to a Sequence 8 Provoker.