219 Probing
Lumian’s eyes locked with Louis Lund, who occupied the driver’s seat of the carriage, and received a confirmation nod.
Drawing a deep breath, Lumian strode toward the four-wheeled carriage, crouched down, and entered it.
He grasped the gravity of the situation.
Madame Pualis, cautious and aware, refrained from responding through letters. Instead, she concealed herself near 9 Rue des Pavés, anticipating Lumian’s arrival for the reply. This strategy effectively minimized the risk of being trailed and cornered.
In the blink of an eye, Lumian’s attention was seized by a familiar figure.
Adorned in a meticulously tailored black corset dress and a slightly mischievous lady’s round hat, she exuded an elusive allure. Her untamed brows, lively brown eyes, and moist lips radiated a sense of allure. A cascade of brown hair, half-up and half-down, graced her shoulders. Although informal, her elegance, immaculateness, and enchantment remained undeniable. She was none other than Pualis de Roquefort, the wife of Cordu’s administrator.
“Long time no see,” Madame Pualis greeted him with a smile, yet her eyes emitted a frigid glare, sending shivers down one’s spine.
Simultaneously, Lumian observed a shift in his surroundings.
The carriage vanished, leaving him stranded in a desolate wilderness.
There was nothing before him, and Madame Pualis had vanished into thin air.
Just as Lumian marveled at this bewildering turn of events, a colossal, irregular shadow emerged on the ground.
Instinctively, he raised his gaze, met by a reflection of brown feathers.
Each plume rivaled the size of his head, assembling into a pair of wings that seemed to obscure the heavens.
These wings belonged to Madame Pualis herself, who grew in stature, hovering in mid-air. Her feet transformed into avian talons, glistening with a chilling gleam.
A majestic, ethereal voice resounded.
“You should have been buried with Cordu!”
Lumian’s heart constricted. Gripping his revolver, he swiftly pivoted and sprinted toward the edge of the wilderness.
If the visions within this dream held even an ounce of truth, he could escape Paramita once he reached its limits!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Lumian maneuvered in a curved path, firing rounds into the air. This constituted his sole means of long-range assault.
Despite her immense size, Madame Pualis displayed remarkable dexterity. The gusts generated by her flapping wings disrupted the bullets’ trajectory, enabling her to deftly reposition herself.
An ear-splitting screech emanated from her throat.
Ahead of Lumian, the earth beneath the wilderness upheaved, soil cascading away, unveiling yet another monstrous entity.
A repugnant odor filled the air as the python’s entire body writhed with yellow pus and deformed worms.
Bloodshot eyes glared condescendingly at Lumian. Translucent silkworms squirmed in and out of its hollowed eye sockets.
The serpent’s gaze landed condescendingly on Lumian before it lunged over, its maw open wide, its yellowed fangs aimed at the living prey.
Lumian’s head spun from the putrid stench that permeated the air. With haste, he withdrew a sheet of drawing paper from his shirt and unfolded it.
A vibrant, golden-red sun adorned its surface.
Instantly, the surroundings grew warmer, and the sky, once obscured by Madame Pualis, brightened.
The long-deceased python averted its gaze from Lumian, seemingly unwilling to face the sun’s brilliance.
Yet, its attacks merely slowed rather than ceased.
Seizing the opportunity, Lumian pivoted, clutching the drawing, and darted off in another direction.
Hovering mid-air, Madame Pualis parted her lips, uttering a sinister phrase unintelligible to Lumian.
An immediate weakness washed over Lumian, diminishing his running speed, as if a grave illness had befallen him, leaving him yet to convalesce.
Right on the heels of that, Madame Pualis raised her head, emitting a sharp, pained howl.
At that moment, Lumian perceived an ethereal shattering sound.
It reverberated within his soul and body, casting a veil of darkness over his vision, propelling him toward the threshold of death.
Had it not been for Hunter, Provoker, Dancer, and Alms Monk fortifying his constitution from various angles, Lumian might have succumbed to his enfeebled state.
Clutching onto his last vestiges of reason, Lumian endured the agonizing pain, mustering his dwindling strength to reach into his pocket and brush Mr. K’s finger.
In an instant, he felt the refreshing touch of raindrops nourishing his body and soul.
His injuries swiftly mended at a visible pace, while the surrounding wilderness gradually dissolved into illusion until it vanished entirely.
Lumian caught sight of Madame Pualis seated opposite him in the carriage.
The chill had evaporated from her gaze, replaced by a sneering mockery.
“With your feeble strength, you aspire to seek revenge against Guillaume Bénet?”
“When I departed Cordu Village, he gained a new boon after driving away us believers in the Great Mother. He now stands on par with a Sequence 5 Fate Appropriator. In the future, he may even procure the corresponding potion for consumption.”
Was her earlier attack merely a test of my capabilities? Lumian harbored no surprise at the padre’s Sequence 5 status. After all, his contracted abilities far surpassed those of a Contractee, yet he clearly lacked godhood. That left only two possibilities: Sequence 6 or Sequence 5.
Considering Guillaume Bénet’s performance in the dream and his clash against Ryan, Leah, and Valentine, Lumian had long suspected him to be a Sequence 5 Fate Appropriator. Now, Madame Pualis had confirmed his suspicions.
What astonished him was that Recipients could consume potions to acquire additional abilities. However, they must choose the appropriate potion or a suitable alternative.
Lumian pondered for a moment, concluding that such occurrences were to be expected.
Beyonders themselves could receive boons; it was just that the process carried various complications.
Lumian met Madame Pualis’s gaze and responded calmly, “I still have time to grow, and there’s a chance for me to become stronger. However, Guillaume Bénet has little hope of attaining godhood. He doesn’t believe in the three entities that the Great Mother is a part of. I’ll catch up to him as soon as I can.”
Unspoken by Lumian were his hopes of acquiring more formidable allies. Being an evil god’s Blessed and having offended a follower of the Great Mother, Guillaume Bénet couldn’t find many companions. They were likely wild Beyonders and Recipients who also believed in Inevitability.
Madame Pualis chuckled.
“Confidence is a good trait. I admire young people like you who are full of confidence. Would you like to join me and worship the Great Mother? By doing so, you can gain additional assistance. Apart from the power of the potion, you can also receive boons.”
“I’d rather not become pregnant and have children,” Lumian declined Madame Pualis’s kind offer in a tactful manner.
Madame Pualis smiled and replied, “It seems you haven’t yet experienced the holiness, preciousness, and joy of life and the wonders of new beginnings. It’s something I only came to fully comprehend after giving birth.
“But there’s no need for you to refuse now. When you come to understand the greatness of the Mother, you can approach me anytime.”
Lumian didn’t wish to dwell on matters concerning the Great Mother, so he changed the subject.
“I thought you got others to have children. I didn’t expect you to have one yourself.”
Madame Pualis’s face glowed with a maternal radiance.
“After becoming a Banshee, I had to bear a child myself in order to draw closer to the Great Mother.”
It’s hard to believe that you were once a man… Lumian almost hesitated to meet Madame Pualis’s gaze. He swiftly redirected the conversation with a casual question.
“Did your child perish in the castle?”
“Yes,” Madame Pualis sighed. “His father killed him with his own hands. Regrettably, he was unaware that the child was his.”
“Who?” Lumian blurted out.
Madame Pualis smiled.
“Guillaume Bénet. Didn’t you witness our affair? He didn’t notice, but I knew you were hiding behind the altar. I even considered inviting you to join us.”
I assumed your affair was merely symbolic… Some of it was real? Lumian was taken aback as several images flickered in his mind:
Madame Pualis and the padre entangled in their nakedness.
Madame Pualis praising the padre’s audacity, forthrightness, and masculinity.
The padre having Saint Sith put up with the transgression…
Noticing Lumian’s change in expression, Madame Pualis smiled and continued, “After arriving in Cordu and familiarizing myself with the surroundings, the first thing I did was seduce Guillaume Bénet.
“He held true authority as a clergyman and was the only means for Cordu to connect with the Eternal Blazing Sun Church. If I could bring him down and make him a believer of the Great Mother, combined with Béost’s identity, I could have truly established Cordu as my territory without arousing suspicion from the outside world.
“Coincidentally, I also needed a child. So, I decided to put him to the test. Within a week, I secured his bloodline as a contingency plan. However, around July or August of last year, his attitude suddenly changed, and he lost interest in the Great Mother. Unfortunately, I didn’t even have the opportunity to let him bear a child for me to experience the wonders of life.”
“Last July or August?” Lumian repeated.
Every year, shepherds returned to the mountains during May and June.
“Yes, I remember it vividly,” Madame Pualis chuckled. “Later, that fool Louis Lund even attempted to seek his assistance.”
Lumian furrowed his brow and asked, “Why did the padre’s attitude change all of a sudden?”
“I’m not entirely sure. All I know is that during that time, some villagers were spreading distorted ideas about horoscopes, and they were reported to Guillaume Bénet. After interrogating those individuals, Guillaume Bénet’s demeanor gradually shifted.” Madame Pualis’s eyes seemed to reflect the sunlight dancing on a lake’s surface.
“Who were they?” Lumian pressed.
Madame Pualis smiled in response. “Nazélie and the others—people you are familiar with.”
Lumian fell silent for a few seconds before speaking again, “Where were you, and what were you doing when the padre and the others attacked the castle?”
Pualis let out a brisk laugh.
“So, you finally ask. You should have already guessed the answer, right?”
She gazed at Lumian with a pained and twisted smile.
“Aurore attacked me.”