94 Attack
Lumian’s eyes were narrowed, his body tensing as he sensed the pores on his skin open. An overwhelming premonition of danger washed over him.
In the dream ruins, he’d had no shortage of similar experiences. Instantly, he halted and tumbled to the side, like a boneless sack of flesh.
A whistling wind filled his ears as a razor-sharp axe grazed his body, slicing through the air.
Lumian hit the ground with a thud, attempting to roll to his feet. But pale-white and pitch-black, eerie arms extended from the surrounding shadows, grabbing his clothes and coiling around his body.
The cold sensation and stiffness seeped into Lumian’s flesh. Twisting wildly, trying to escape the restraints with his powerful agility, he shouted, “Help…”
Two malicious, bumpy palms smothered his mouth, stifling his voice abruptly, leaving only a whimper.
Simultaneously, Lumian glimpsed an elongated humanoid shadow on the wall, raising the axe at him.
Clang!
A two-handed broadsword of pure light blocked the axe’s slash.
Ryan was the first to rush over, not bothering with his Dawn Armor, and simply summoned a Sword of Dawn.
The shadowy axe took on a heavy, sharp, and dark appearance the moment it detached from the wall.
The second person to arrive at the washroom door was Leah, who had been in the opposite study. The silver bells on her veil and boots tinkled softly.
Leah raised her right palm and aimed her silver revolver at the strange arms grabbing Lumian.
They tightened, as if trying to drag Lumian into the shadows.
Blue blood vessels bulged from Lumian’s neck, forehead, and hands, straining with all his might.
Yet, he couldn’t fend off the pale-white and pitch-black arms. His body dissolved into the shadows piece by piece.
Bang!
Leah fired, and a golden bullet wrapped in blazing flames struck a pitch-black arm that seemed to drip ink.
The arm ignited, quickly releasing Lumian’s neck and retreating into the shadowy corner.
Aurore arrived at the washroom to find such a scene.
Seeing a third of her brother’s body thinned and darkened into a shadow, his expression growing increasingly rigid, Aurore wasted no time. She pulled iron-black materials from her hidden pocket and sprinkled the powder at Lumian, her light-blue eyes darkening.
Lumian felt an invisible hand grasp him and pull him toward Aurore.
He recalled his sister using a similar spell before, but it had pushed him away—this time, she yanked him closer.
The colossal hand’s strength equaled that of the sinister arms, stopping Lumian’s slide into the shadows.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Ryan drove the figure with the sharp axe back into the wall.
The next second, Valentine appeared behind Leah and Aurore.
Witnessing Lumian’s state, he spread his arms wide.
Golden illusory flames materialized around Lumian, incinerating countless wicked arms.
The pitch-black or pale-white arms either melted like candles or evaporated into black wisps of smoke.
Within seconds, four-fifths of the strange arms grabbing Lumian vanished.
The remaining arms struggled to resist the invisible hand and Lumian’s efforts, releasing him one after another.
Feeling the grip on him loosen, Lumian was pulled by the invisible hand, half-flying and half-pouncing toward Aurore.
As the pitch-black and pale-white arms retracted, the axe-wielding figure froze on the wall, merging with the surrounding shadows, leaving no trace.
Lumian stood and surveyed the area, sneering.
“Is that it? Aren’t you looking down on us by only sending one person?”
Aurore glared at him.
“Don’t speak!”
How could he utter such ill-omened words at a time like this?
As Aurore’s voice echoed in the corridor, a black, spiked vine, abnormally thick as if from the Abyss, descended from the study’s ceiling.
At its top bloomed a massive, blood-red flower with a foul odor.
The flower expanded, as if stretching its mouth to the limit.
It suddenly engulfed Leah’s head and writhed frantically.
As it chewed, the object in its mouth turned into a thin piece of paper and was shredded.
Immediately after, the radiant broadsword of light flew from the washroom, impaling the massive evil flower to the wall.
Streams of bright red blood oozed from the sword, evaporating into mist.
Simultaneously, tendrils of black vines cascaded from the ceiling of the Lumian residence, enveloping the walls and sealing the windows with enormous red blossoms.
Aurore swiftly produced a pearl-like powder and tossed it into the air, mingling it with summoned natural forces.
An unseen warm breeze blew, causing the black vines to wither and lose their vigor, no longer able to support the vivid red flowers suspended in midair.
The wilted vines dangled lifelessly from the second floor.
Not a bad result… Aurore mused to herself.
She had obtained the spell from a member of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society. Intended as a gardening spell for weeding, Aurore had acquired it at a bargain price, thinking it would be useful someday. Typically, it was used to clear weeds from building walls, but today it proved invaluable.
Nonetheless, the abyssal black vines were unnaturally resilient. They merely withered and didn’t perish instantly.
This bought time for Valentine, who summoned the golden and illusory Fire of Light to incinerate the vile creatures in the corridor and rooms.
...
Ryan then flooded the area with the pure Sunrise Gleam, banishing all evil and obliterating all illusions.
Confronted with this situation he was powerless in, Hunter Lumian stifled his urge to perform the enigmatic dance. He observed his sister and the three outsiders collaborate to eradicate the anomaly that had invaded the second floor.
Soon, the black vines and red flowers disintegrated into smoke.
But Leah’s veil and the silver bells on her boots continued to jingle, signaling that danger still lurked.
Lumian swiftly surveyed the scene and sniffed.
“The air doesn’t smell right…”
A faint, sweet scent lingered.
“I feel a little dizzy and want to sleep,” Leah confessed her unease.
The fumes from the burning vines and flowers contain an anesthetic? How sinister! Aurore, possessing extensive mysticism knowledge, acted promptly.
She produced a handful of transparent powder and scattered it forward.
A fierce wind materialized from nowhere, gusting through every corner of the second floor.
...
Ryan, Lumian, Valentine, and Leah dashed into separate rooms, throwing open the windows that had been sealed by the black vines.
As the innocuous wind subsided, Aurore turned to Lumian and inquired, “And now?”
Lumian sniffed cautiously. “Don’t smell it anymore.”
“I feel better, too,” Leah chimed in.
At that moment, the silver bells on her veil and boots ceased their movement.
The crisis was averted.
“A probing attack from the padre and company?” Aurore speculated.
Lumian glanced at Valentine, who appeared troubled.
“Could be Guillaume Bénet, who just received a boon, or the already powerful Shepherd Pierre Berry.”
Valentine’s expression softened at Lumian’s choice of words.
Ryan surveyed the area and declared in a deep voice, “Whichever the case, we must heighten our vigilance. From now on, let’s split into two groups for shifts. We’ll alternate between resting and standing guard, day or night.”
A single guard risked being ambushed without timely assistance.
“No problem.” Aurore and Lumian exchanged glances before adding, “I’ll be in the same group as my brother.”
Ryan and the others didn’t object.
Over the next few days, the two groups maintained a watchful eye in six-hour rotations. Although nothing transpired, as Lent drew near, they all felt the impending danger, anticipating relentless waves of peril.
During this period, Lumian continued exploring the dream while resting.
He didn’t immediately hunt the flaming monster. Instead, he suppressed his impatience and sought to understand the creature’s patterns.
With his Invisibility, long-range tracking, daily observation, and ample patience, Lumian finally gleaned the information he desired.
The flaming monster would set traps in the dream clearing each morning, practicing techniques it had mastered for 45 to 90 minutes. It would then follow a fixed route into a flesh-strewn area to replenish its energy.
Its afternoon activities were unpredictable, mainly patrolling its territory via different paths. Lumian had yet to discern its criteria for choosing routes.
In the evening, it would retrace the fixed route and re-enter the hunting zone.
Lumian remained ignorant of its nocturnal activities. He had only spent a maximum of six hours in the dream ruins and never ventured there at night.
…
The night before Lent.
Lumian jolted awake in the hazy gray fog of the dreamscape bedroom. He glanced at Fallen Mercury beside him and his mind snapped into sharp focus.
This was the night. He would hunt down the flaming monster.