Justice, adorned in a simple yet elegant dress, turned her head to glance at Magician, discerning her thoughts.
Magician didn’t hesitate. With a sigh and a chuckle, she stepped into the faltering darkness.
Justice followed closely behind.
As they vanished, sunlight flooded the sky from Saint Viève Cathedral on Trier’s island area, coalescing into a miniature sun.
The sun’s rays pierced the darkness of Salle de Bal Brise, illuminating a translucent woman in a white robe adorned with golden threads. She possessed a captivating beauty and emitted a holy aura, as if impervious to the touch of dust.
Trier’s guardian angel paid no heed to the Sacred Heart Cloister as she passed through the illusory door with a crack.
Simultaneously, a whistle resonated from the patriarchal cathedral of the God of Steam and Machinery to the north of Trier.
As if part of a ritual, it emitted an iron-black chimney, serving as the building’s spire.
A substantial amount of pale-white fog billowed into the air, contorting and writhing to take on a discernible form.
The figure that materialized was tall and handsome, with long chestnut hair. Cloaked in a monk-like gray robe and a white apron,
He was Saint Bornova, recently assigned to the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery in Trier.
Unlike Saint Viève, the Angel didn’t enter the seal; instead, He hovered in the air, vigilant against potential mishaps, including an attack from the Rose School of Thought’s Abomination.
At that moment, a colossal hurricane erupted, enshrouding the golden sun above the Sacred Heart Cloister in dark clouds, lightning, and torrential rain.
With the advent of this apocalyptic phenomenon, the already unstable effects of the ritual, disrupted by various interferences, could no longer be sustained. The figures in the paintings lingering on the ground and the illusory illusions of surrounding buildings became instantly recognizable as fake.
This virtual reality-like scene seamlessly overlapped with the tangible market district once more.
Just as the surface and the underground were on the brink of switching, a figure materialized abruptly in front of the mirror-like darkness of Salle de Bal Brise.
This figure sported straight eyebrows and blue eyes, along with long chestnut hair cascading to the waist. Adorned in a white shirt with ribbons and flowers, a brown captain’s coat with intricate patterns, beige pants, and dark brown leather boots, the ensemble exuded an eclectic charm.
In her left hand, she gripped a golden item engraved with mysterious patterns, resembling a miniature lamp.
Silently, the wick extending from the lamp’s mouth spontaneously ignited, emitting a viscous, aqueous golden light.
Within the luminous glow, a distorted and indistinct pale-gold figure materialized. In a dignified and majestic voice, it conveyed,
The woman holding the peculiar lamp scrutinized the pale-golden figure deeply before her body suddenly turned ethereal, disintegrating into countless symbols and words. Like a torrent, she surged through the iron-black door and the completely collapsed darkness.
Franca and Anthony Reid, emerging from the dark light, regained their vision to find themselves in a dimly lit mine.
A feeble light seeped into the mine from a distance, offering limited visibility.
Damn it, did I enter that special mirror world again? Did the anomaly in the market district cause the Primordial Demoness’s figurine to resonate with the ancient mirror, triggering a chain reaction? Franca cursed inwardly.
What is this called? When it rains, it pours!
As a Spectator, Anthony Reid’s immediate response upon confirming his condition was to observe his surroundings.
He noted that the mine wasn’t overly expansive, with no other tunnels branching off. There was only one path ahead, leading toward the faint light.
Franca, in that moment, realized that this place differed from her previous visits. It felt like she had reached the end of a particular dead end. Granted, she and Lumian had never thoroughly explored this special mirror world, making it normal for them to be unfamiliar with uncharted areas.
“Where are we?” Anthony Reid inquired of Franca, who clearly held some knowledge, when he saw a figure emerge from a crevice in the rock wall beside him.
The figure curled up and hugged him, trembling.
The figure, dressed in military-green attire and sporting a light-yellow crew cut, was Anthony Reid himself!
As if sensing Anthony’s gaze, the figure turned his head, his dark brown eyes filled with resentment and malice.
Unfazed, Franca sighed with familiarity. “Your mirror version isn’t too aggressive.”
The trembling Anthony Reid vanished.
Franca averted her gaze and briefly elucidated their location and the means of departure.
Upon checking her belongings, she realized that only the ancient silver mirror was missing. The Primordial Demoness’s bone figurine remained securely in her possession.
Franca concluded, “The problem now is that the path out is guarded by a powerful monster. I relied on Ciel’s uniqueness to divert it last time. I don’t know what to do now.
“Let’s find another exit first. Yes, we have to hurry. Staying in this mirror world for too long will cause problems.”
“Alright.” Anthony Reid, lacking experience in this area, chose to heed Franca’s suggestion.
The two of them paid no mind to the faces lurking in the darkness on either side. They swiftly moved forward and entered the only tunnel.
As they progressed, the illumination increased, and visibility improved.
After walking for a while, Franca and Anthony Reid halted at a suspected exit.
It resembled a cave, sealed by pure light.
However, she received no response.
“Phew…” Franca exhaled and said to Anthony Reid, “Let’s give it a try. If it’s not right, we’ll retreat. There’s no other way.”
“Okay.” Anthony Reid nodded and placed his hand on the door of light alongside Franca.
Their figures passed through.
…
Lumian and Jenna sprinted between towering, collapsed grayish-white stone pillars until they reached the edge of the area covered in pale-black stone bricks.
However, what awaited them was still the pitch-black and blood-red city, with the giant figure shrouded in violent winds, lightning, heavy rain, smoke, and flames.
The only change was their perspective, now positioned on the side instead of facing the giant and the turbulent weather.
Confused, Jenna muttered, “We were running in the opposite direction. Why did we circle back?”
Lumian glanced back and explained, “As a Hunter, it’s unlikely for me to get lost. The current situation suggests that there’s a problem with the directions of this space. Perhaps, no matter where we run, we’ll eventually return to this vicinity.”
Fortunately, the distance between them and the giant figure had barely increased, estimated to be two to three thousand meters.
Upon hearing Lumian’s explanation, Jenna cast her gaze forward.
Beyond the pale-black stone bricks, in the wilderness connected to the majestic city, mirror fragments were scattered. They weren’t large, but there were thousands of them.
Lumian surveyed the scene, contemplating an alternative plan.
A sudden realization struck him—a swift method to rapidly restore his spirituality.
In a space effective at weakening the influence of an evil god, he could execute a ritual, siphon the boon, and ascend to Sequence 6 Ascetic of the Inevitability pathway!
By destabilizing various states, the ritual would promptly restore and amplify Lumian’s spirituality.
In essence, he could exchange the stability of his current state for the enhancement and replenishment of his spirituality.
Before initiating the ritual, Lumian needed to ascertain one crucial detail.
Would this place render Mr. Fool incapable of observation?
If that were the case, Termiboros might exploit the ritual to escape with the unintelligent seal itself. After all, the core of the ritual involved breaking the seal and drawing out the corresponding power of Inevitability!
Just as Lumian was about to instruct Jenna to keep a vigilant watch, a figure emerged from a shattered mirror in the wilderness.
Their pupils dilated, and instinctively, Lumian and Jenna sought cover behind the grayish-white stone pillar and the partially collapsed rubble.
The figure swiftly materialized, standing over 1.7 meters tall and clad in a black cloak.
Lumian stole a quick glance in that direction before retracting his gaze.
The figure seemed oddly familiar.
Before long, a familiar voice rang out from the side.
“You’re not slow either.”
Th-this is Gardner Martin! He’s involved too? Lumian didn’t dare to peek out.
Then, he recalled the identity of the cloaked figure.
The Carbonari member he had encountered, the one followed by Franca!
Shouldn’t the Carbonari be causing chaos on the surface? Lumian wondered.
At that moment, Jenna produced a mirror and gestured if Lumian needed assistance.
She could use mirror magic, utilizing mirror-like items to display their reflections onto a designated mirror.
Numerous mirror fragments lay nearby at the edge of the wilderness.
Lumian shook his head slowly and mouthed and gestured to Jenna, signaling her to “Wait a moment.”
He decided to act at a critical juncture. There was no need to take unnecessary risks at this point.
At that moment, a mellow, deep voice responded to Gardner Martin, “Where’s the president of your Iron and Blood Cross Order?”
“Headed there, of course,” Gardner Martin replied with a smile. “It’s the stage for important figures, and we have our own mission.”
He paused a beat before continuing, “Why are you still wearing the cloak? Is it someone new beneath?”
“You’re still as cautious as ever,” the deep voice sighed.
Lumian and Jenna heard the rustling of clothes.
Lumian immediately signaled Jenna with his eyes.
Jenna took the hint and recited the incantation silently, her hand resting on the mirror.
The aqueous light on the mirror’s surface flickered, revealing a figure.
The figure wore a cloak without the hood. His hair was thick and slightly curly, and his eyes were as sharp as an eagle’s. His beard was neatly trimmed, and the bridge of his nose was slightly raised.
Wh— Lumian recognized the person.
Philip!
The deceased General Philip!