Chapter 111: A Tiny Hope (Requesting Monthly Votes)

Several days ago, beneath the blood-red "mountain," beside the twisted "wall."

Lu Mi knelt on the ground, gazing up as the mysterious lady drew nearer.

Her words landed clearly in his ears, yet gradually blurred.

Lu Mi’s hands pressed into the earth, clenching unconsciously, as if trying to squeeze the soil into liquid.

When the mysterious lady stopped about a meter away, he struggled to his feet and asked urgently:

“Didn’t you say there was still a way to save them?”

“Didn’t you say that breaking the cycle on your own would bring Aurora and the others back?”

Lu Mi’s voice grew hoarser with each word.

The mysterious lady made no reply, only watching him silently, her pity undimmed.

Lu Mi paused, then asked with desperate hope:

“There really is still a way, isn’t there?”

“That wasn’t just a dream—when Aurora and I talked, she spoke of knowledge I never knew or understood, just like how that title vaguely pointed to two beings!”

He stared fixedly at the lady, observing every movement, terrified yet hopeful.

Finally, the mysterious lady nodded:

“There is still a way.”

Lu Mi’s eyes flashed bright, waiting for her to continue.

The lady spoke in a soft, gentle voice:

“In practical terms, Aurora is already dead. But in the realm of the arcane, she has not yet fully perished.

“Do you remember how, each time you performed the Dance of Summoning, you eventually heard faint, whispering voices—as if coming from within your own body? Do you remember how, at the end of the Twelfth Night Ritual, shards of light flew from Aurora and the others into your chest?”

“Those were their spirits? Their voices?” Lu Mi interrupted the mysterious lady, eager to ask.

The lady answered calmly and compassionately:

“They are only soul fragments.

“At the end of the Twelfth Night, you became the vessel for the terrifying power descended by that hidden being. Naturally, the soul fragments of the surrounding believers and sacrifices were drawn into you—except for the presiding priest, Guillaume Béné.

“Afterward, these soul fragments and the highly corrupting power were sealed by my master within your left chest.

“So, as you grew increasingly ‘awake’ within the dream, able to clearly perceive the dates and the cycle, Aurora and the other villagers became more lifelike, even displaying a degree of self-awareness and independent thought.

“Therefore, to truly awaken from the dream and contain the cycle’s power scattered across this ruin, you alone must understand, must comprehend—must find the courage to face the pain, to face it all, and to pursue the elusive hope.

“If I were to resolve this, there is only one option: to destroy you and the ruins of Keldu Village entirely. Otherwise, the corruption within you will inevitably leak out, and then Aurora and the others will truly die in the arcane sense.”

Hearing the mysterious lady mention the Twelfth Night ritual, Lu Mi couldn’t help recalling it.

His head throbbed sharply, Fuxian only fragmented images:

Aurora, her eyes vacant, pushed him away from the altar;

Shards of light flew from Aurora and the surrounding villagers, sinking into the vortex in his chest;

The parish priest, Guillaume Béné, wore an expression of shock and turned to flee the altar.

Beyond these, Lu Mi could recall nothing else—only the events of the dream, as if some force blocked his memory.

His face twisted, his body trembling, he whispered:

“I… I can’t remember many things…”

The lady nodded:

“This is normal. First, it’s the subconscious protecting you—too many painful memories, too shocking images might shatter you instantly, causing you to lose control and become a monster. Second, some things you never witnessed, so you don’t know the truth. Of course, neither do I.

“Hmm, later I’ll have you go to Trier to do something. I know a person—no, two people—very skilled psychologists in Trier. I can arrange a meeting with them; see who’s available to treat you, help you recover more memories, and reconstruct as much as possible of what happened in Keldu Village.”

Lu Mi felt countless emotions surging within him, yet when they reached his lips, they became only one word:

“Thank you…”

He clenched his fists, asking urgently:

“How can I make Aurora and the others come back to life?”

The lady sighed:

“I don’t know.”

Seeing Lu Mi’s eyes instantly dim, she added:

“But you must believe that true miracles exist in this world.

“And the great being I mentioned before is the very embodiment of ‘miracle.’”

Despair and Jiaoxing grew wildly within Lu Mi’s heart.

Though he knew the mysterious lady was likely only comforting him, offering a sliver of hope, he still couldn’t help asking:

“You said that once I uncovered the secret of the dream, you’d tell me the true name of that great being.”

The lady’s expression turned solemn, her tone serious:

“I’ll tell you now. Listen carefully.

“His true name is:

“The Fool outside this age, the Mysterious Sovereign above the Grey Mist, the King of Yellow and Black who holds Fortune.”

As each word was spoken, Lu Mi grew increasingly dazed, as if seeing thin grey mist, and above it, impossibly high, a castle faintly visible.

A gaze fixed upon him from there.

Simultaneously, the entire Keerducun trembled, the thin mist permeating the place rapidly receding.

When Lu Mi regained clarity and sight, sunlight poured from above, gilding the blood-red “mountain” and the barren earth.

Lu Mi recalled the three-part true name, remembering his discussions with Aurora in the dream.

This brought a pang of sorrow; he smiled bitterly:

“I thought it would include descriptions of past, present, and future.”

The mysterious lady, dressed in an orange-yellow gown, murmured:

“Perhaps in the future it will. But if you now pray to Him using any description beyond those three phrases, I cannot guarantee the response will be His.

“You should know—such situations are extremely dangerous.”

Lu Mi fell silent for several seconds, then asked with that tiny hope:

“If I work hard for you, will I eventually ask that great being to resurrect Aurora?”

“It is one path,” the lady said softly. “You may also seek other methods on your own—I won’t stop you. But I warn you: many resurrection techniques carry severe flaws.”

Lu Mi nodded, acknowledging her words.

He dared not ask, yet couldn’t help himself:

“How likely is resurrection?”

The mysterious lady looked at him and sighed:

“Very, very unlikely. But I know you will still pursue it.”

Lu Mi pressed his lips tightly shut, saying nothing.

He wasn’t unwilling to tell her he would spare no effort to find a way to resurrect Aurora—he simply feared that speaking would betray the storm of grief within him.

After a few seconds, he asked hoarsely:

“What do you need me to do in Trier?”

“Join a secret organization and gather intelligence for me,” the lady said simply. “I’ll tell you how to contact them once you arrive in Trier.”

She added immediately:

“Besides searching your memories for the truth, you can also investigate the ‘survivors’ of this disaster.”

“Survivors?” Lu Mi’s eyes slowly narrowed.

The lady nodded:

“Besides you, five others left Keerducun before the Twelfth Night: Madame Pualis, Beo Site , Louis Lund, Cassie, and Guillaume Béné—the priest who presided over the ritual, protected to some degree, and escaped before the place was utterly destroyed.”

“The parish priest is still alive?” Lu Mi’s lips curled slightly.

The mysterious lady looked into his eyes:

“If my divination is correct, these five are hiding somewhere in the Trier region.”

“Good,” Lu Mi said, smiling as he wiped his Yanjiao .

The lady then turned her gaze to Ryan Cos, Lyra, and Valentine, who slept near the edge of a room within the thorned “wall,” and asked Lu Mi:

“What will you do with them?”

“If they leave alive, you will be hunted—listed as a prime target for arrest by the Eighth Bureau, the ‘Mechanical Heart,’ and the Inquisition.

“From now on, you can only hide. You will never live under ‘sunlight’ again. You will be bound to darkness, mud, and danger.”

Lu Mi glanced at Ryan and the others, then smiled hoarsely:

“Will killing them bring Aurora back to life?”

The lady shook her head:

“No.”

Lu Mi let out a bitter laugh, lowering his head and closing his eyes.

Soon, he lifted his head and asked:

“What’s the name of the organization I’ll join? How do I contact you once I reach Trier?”

The lady sighed slightly:

“I’ll tell you when the time comes.

“I’ll give you the method to summon my messenger and the corresponding medium—you’ll use it to reach me.”

Lu Mi fell silent for a moment, then asked another question:

“Do I have the power to trap Keldu Village in a cycle?”

“Strictly speaking, you did not—at least not before you received the ‘One Within the Loop’ blessing,” the woman replied casually. “Here, the pollution from that hidden entity is everywhere, and the power sealed in your left chest has a very high ontological rank. So when your emotions surge strongly and you’re in a subconscious state, you can activate the corresponding special property to restart this place.”

She paused, then added:

“But you yourself have always been within the cycle.

“The pollution sealed inside you resets your physical state every day at six a.m., returning you to the state you were in at six a.m. at the end of the Twelfth Night—only the changes brought by your extraordinary traits and the ‘blessing’ are retained.”

So this is why I always wake up fully healed after being injured among the ruins? No wonder I never woke up from hunger… Lu Mi suddenly understood.

He looked down at his own body and smiled bitterly:

“Always that day…”

That nightmare of a day.

Before the woman could respond, he lifted his head and looked at her:

“How should I address you?”

The woman smiled:

“You may call me…”

Before she could finish, sheets of playing cards suddenly fluttered through the air.

Each card bore a different image, rustling down toward Lu Mi.

Lu Mi instinctively extended his right hand, trying to catch some of the cards.

At that moment, most of the cards vanished mysteriously, leaving only one.

That single card drifted gently into Lu Mi’s palm, face up, depicting a figure extending a staff toward the sky while pointing to the ground with his left hand.

The Tarot card: “The Magician!”

Lu Mi looked up in shock—but the mysterious woman had vanished.

Should I call her “The Magician” lady? Lu Mi instinctively flipped the Tarot card over and saw a row of tiny Intis words written there:

“A spirit wandering in illusion, a benevolent upper-world being, the exclusive messenger of ‘The Magician.’”

Lu Mi stared at it for a while, then tucked the Tarot card away.

He glanced at Ryan Cos and the others, turned his body, and walked away from the area with slightly unsteady steps.

As he walked, Lu Mi couldn’t help but look back, gazing once more at the blood-red “mountain” and the twisted thorn “wall.”

Keldu Village as he remembered it had become this—no trace of its original form remained—but Lu Mi still strained to observe, to search, trying to overlay the image in his mind with the reality before him.

He wanted to see the “giant” atop the “mountain” one last time, yet he knew it would bring him severe harm.

Unconsciously, Lu Mi began slowly circling the blood-red “mountain” and the thorn “wall,” his gaze constantly shifting across the twisted, chaotic objects around him.

He knew what he was searching for—and he knew he would never find it.

Thus, Lu Mi arrived at the place previously blocked by the wooden fence.

Much of it had collapsed, allowing a direct view of the garden behind.

Inside, grass and trees thrived, colorful flowers bloomed in vivid hues—starkly contrasting the blood-red “mountain,” the twisted “wall,” and the ruins on the other side.

In the central area sat a baby crib made of brown wood, strikingly similar to the one Lu Mi had seen in Madame Pualis’s castle.

He moved closer instinctively and noticed a slight human-shaped depression in the slightly worn white cotton swaddling cloth inside the swaying cradle—as if an infant had once lain there, now gone without trace.

What did this mean? Lu Mi had just Shanguo this thought when the sunlight pouring from above grew intensely bright.

He instinctively looked up—and saw golden flames completely engulfing the summit of the “mountain.”

The three-headed, six-armed “giant” flickered in and out of the sea of fire, as if melting.

Lu Mi stared for several seconds, then suddenly raised both hands to cover his face.

This “sunlight” was too blinding.

…………

Inside a partially underground two-story building at the edge of the ruins.

Lu Mi, carrying the 237 Faelkin and 46 Kopek he had collected, picked up his brown suitcase filled with clothes and memories, and trudged heavily to his sister’s bedroom, reaching out to push open the door.

He had come to say goodbye.

As soon as he stepped inside and saw the desk piled with manuscripts, his head suddenly throbbed—a vision flashed into his mind:

Aurora’s eyes shifted slightly, no longer so hollow; she looked at Lu Mi, who had just pushed the door open, and struggled to speak:

“My… notes…”

His sister’s witchcraft notes? Did they contain vital information? Lu Mi pressed his hand to his head, walked to the desk, and pulled open the drawer below.

The familiar dark-bound notebooks came into view.

He suddenly remembered: in the period before Keldu Village’s destruction, Aurora had told him many esoteric teachings.

…………

Dali Ri region, steam train station.

The ticket clerk looked out at Lu Mi and asked:

“Where is your identification?”

“Forgot,” Lu Mi replied coldly, dressed in a linen shirt, dark jacket, and round black hat, carrying a brown suitcase.

Then he turned and walked away from the window.

A short man in a black suit and a half-top hat approached him, lowering his voice:

“Want a stagecoach? To Bigor.”

“Do you need identification?” Lu Mi asked.

The short man chuckled:

“No need. Our business is nearly dead from steam trains—why would we care about identification?

“Are you riding? This is the last bit of romance left from the classical age!”

Lu Mi gave a slight nod and asked:

“How much?”

The short man instantly became enthusiastic:

“Twenty Faelkin to Bigor, about a day, five stops along the way, with rest periods at each, changing drivers and animals—two stops even offer free food.”

Lu Mi asked no further questions and followed the man to a nearby quiet street.

A massive four-horse coach stood parked by the roadside.

After boarding, Lu Mi found the interior reasonably spacious, divided into two rows like a public carriage, with an aisle and space for large luggage.

He found a window seat, placed his suitcase down, and pulled out a book with deep red covers.

Listening to the horses’ snorts and bathed in the sunlight outside the window, he opened the book.

Sitting beside him was a thirty-something man with a neatly trimmed mustache, brown hair, blue eyes, and a well-tailored suit.

He glanced at the book in Lu Mi’s hands and asked with interest:

“‘Eternal Love’? By Aurora Li—the one with the heroine named Jin Huang and the hero named Xia Er?”

“Yes,” Lu Mi nodded.

The mustached man immediately warmed to the topic:

“This is Aurora Li’s earliest work—the prose is extremely immature, especially the dialogue between characters, utterly unrealistic, overly sentimental to the point of discomfort.”

“Yes,” Lu Mi nodded again.

He lowered his head, flipped to the final pages of the book, and let his gaze settle on the text:

“On her deathbed, Jin Huang grasped Xia Er’s outstretched hand, looked at his pained face, and forced a faint smile as she struggled to speak:

‘Fool… live well.’

(Part One Ends)

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(End of Chapter)