Chapter 12: Undercurrent

After leaving the old tavern, Lu Mi began hiding again.

He moved cautiously toward the road he often took to return home.

As expected, he spotted one of Pons Béne’s men crouched behind a roadside green tree, watching passersby.

The parish priest truly won’t stop until he gets what he wants… Lu Mi couldn’t help sighing inwardly.

Most importantly, he still couldn’t mount an effective counterattack.

First, his personal abilities were limited; second, if the parish priest truly met with misfortune, it would inevitably alert the Eternal Sun Church of the Dariel region—then, Inquisitors would surely come to investigate, which would be extremely dangerous for Aurora.

Unless forced into a corner and determined to abandon this place and relocate elsewhere, Lu Mi could only dig into the parish priest’s secrets, hoping to expose some scandal and get him transferred to some monastery to “retire.”

And exposing scandals required skill, just like how he’d previously arranged for the outsider to catch the parish priest and Madame Poulais in bed.

Lu Mi hadn’t spread the story widely because he didn’t want to draw attention to himself; from his observations, the mayor and local judge, Beost, was a man who cared deeply about appearances—if Lu Mi revealed Madame Poulais’s affair, he wouldn’t gain Beost’s gratitude, but almost certainly his hatred and hostility.

If that happened, facing the combined pressure of the parish priest and the mayor, Lu Mi would have to flee from Cordu Village.

He carefully circled around to another path nestled between several houses.

Along the way, Lu Mi constantly used walls, doors, and trees to conceal his figure; just as he neared the “exit,” he suddenly heard voices.

“Guillaume, why not just go to Aurora’s house at night and grab that boy? Running around all day hunting and ambushing him is useless—it’s pure waste of our time. He’s as cunning as a wild wolf in the mountains,” Pons Béne’s familiar gruff voice reached Lu Mi’s ears. “I know Aurora can fight, but we have so many men—we can even hire help from town.”

Guillaume… the parish priest is here too… Lu Mi stopped, pressing himself into the corner of the wall, intending to listen to how the priest would respond and what he’d plan for him.

Guillaume Béne’s voice carried a certain resonance:

“You don’t think Aurora only has the abilities she shows, do you?”

“She likely possesses supernatural powers I don’t have.”

“Ah…” Pons Béne sounded genuinely surprised. “Is she a witch? Guillaume, then why don’t you go to Dariel and bring in the Inquisitors? Capturing a real witch would earn you great rewards from the Church—you might even get the supernatural power you’ve long desired.”

“Fool.” Guillaume Béne directly cursed his brother. “Don’t you understand what’s happening in the village? The Inquisitors’ noses are as sharp as dogs’—they won’t miss a single anomaly. If you trigger them, trouble will be enormous.”

“Even if Aurora truly intends to strike back, I still have other options. Don’t alarm the Inquisitors unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

So what exactly is going on in the village? Lu Mi found this point deeply important and intriguing.

Combining it with earlier oddities he’d noticed, he suspected something sinister was brewing and developing beneath the surface—like a violent undercurrent beneath calm waters.

To his disappointment, Pons Béne didn’t expand on this topic; he focused instead on another point:

“What’s your plan for dealing with a witch?”

“You don’t need to know,” replied Parish Priest Guillaume Béne in a low tone. “For now, dealing with Lu Mi can wait—but we must still maintain appearances. Don’t let anyone suspect I harbor vengeance; that might make those outsiders connect the dots and cause unwanted consequences. Your job now is to warn everyone involved, scare the country bumpkins who might have noticed something, and make sure they don’t blab to those outsiders.”

“Guillaume, you mean those outsiders are here to investigate that matter?” Pons Béne sounded clearly afraid and worried.

Look at you—only muscles, no brains; nothing like your brother, calm and composed, born to lead… Lu Mi mocked Pons Béne inwardly.

Though he despised the parish priest—thought the man was nothing but a stud, crude and greedy, utterly unlike a clergyman—in the countryside, such brutal, savage, dominant, and direct behavior often won admiration; combined with his status, power, wealth, clear-headedness, sufficient wisdom, and decent oratory, even Lu Mi had to admit the man possessed real charisma, easily making those around him worship and rely on him.

Guillaume Béne let out a cold laugh:

“Don’t worry. As long as those outsiders can’t get real evidence, I’ll remain the parish priest of Cordu Village.”

“Pons, remember: ruling a place can’t rely solely on intimidation, terror, and suppression—it will never bring peace or achieve the desired effect. Does the Church want a ruin, a place that can’t pay taxes? Since we can’t kill every adult here, we need friends, followers—we can offer them some protection.”

“The Church lets us manage this place instead of sending outsiders precisely because we’re locals—we have relatives, friends, followers who help them control it better without turning it into chaos. So as long as there’s no solid evidence, the higher-ups will keep trusting me.”

“Alright, I’m heading back to the church.”

It sounded reasonable, even persuasive—but Parish Priest, your vision is still confined to the Dariel region… Aurora once told me that in other places, when villages are severely corrupted by demon gods, the Church chooses total annihilation—turning those places into ruins, killing not just all adults, but even the children… Lu Mi had almost been swayed by Guillaume Béne’s words, but thankfully, Aurora often told him about the horrors of the Eternal Sun Church and the Church of the Steam and Mechanical God.

After the parish priest left, Lu Mi took another route and returned home safely.

By the oven, Aurora, wearing a white apron, was busy at work.

“What are you doing?” Lu Mi asked curiously.

Lunch was still over two hours away.

Aurora pushed a strand of golden hair behind her ear and smiled:

“Trying out a new kind of toast—rice toast.”

“You don’t need to go through all this trouble…” Lu Mi was instantly moved.

He thought Aurora was doing this to make him eat better.

Aurora chuckled:

“Where did you get that idea? Don’t be so self-absorbed, okay?”

“For me, cooking and baking are entertainment, a way to pass the time. Got it?”

“Then why don’t you go out? There’s more entertainment outside,” Lu Mi had always assumed Aurora stayed indoors because she feared the danger her witch identity might bring.

Aurora turned her head and glared at him:

“Drinking and gambling?”

“Remember: I am the world—I need nothing outside myself.”

Lu Mi understood the first half; the second left him baffled:

“Huh?”

“Can you explain what that means?”

Aurora shot him a look:

“Simply put: your sister here is, most of the time, a social phobic.”

“What do you mean ‘most of the time’?” Lu Mi asked, puzzled.

“People are complex contradictions,” Aurora turned her gaze back to the oven. “Don’t you remember? Sometimes I’m unusually talkative, eager to listen to old women’s gossip, play with children, tell them stories, even go mad—borrowing Madame Poulais’s little horse to ride through the hills, galloping wildly, shouting loudly.”

At those times, you shone like a rose bathed in morning dew—drawing people close, yet piercing them with thorns… Lu Mi muttered inwardly.

Since Madame Poulais had been mentioned, Lu Mi changed the subject:

“Aurora, uh, sister, I just heard a rumor about Madame Poulais.”

“What?” Aurora didn’t hide her curiosity.

“She’s a witch who can communicate with the dead’s spirits…” Lu Mi told her everything Ava had said, along with his own observations and the parish priest Guillaume Béne’s words.

Aurora paused her work and listened carefully to her brother’s account.

Her expression grew noticeably heavier.

When Lu Mi finished, Aurora smiled and reassured him:

“Don’t worry too much. Those three outsiders are probably here because of something the parish priest and others have done secretly—likely connected to Madame Poulais.”

“For now, avoid provoking Madame Poulais. I’ll keep an eye on them.”

“You should wander more around the village, interact more with those outsiders—see if you can figure out what’s really going on. Heh, comparatively, the lady who gave you the ‘Wand’ card is more worth our attention.”

“If the situation truly worsens, we’ll have to consider leaving Cordu Village—yes, we can start preparing now.”

“Alright.” Lu Mi fully agreed with his sister’s response.

After a pause, he asked curiously:

“Aurora, if we really have to leave Cordu Village, where do you plan to settle?”

“To Trier!” Aurora answered without hesitation.

Trier was the capital of the Intis Republic, the cultural and artistic center of the entire continent.

“Why?” Though Lu Mi himself also wanted to go to Trier, he asked anyway.

—Every Intisian dreamed of going to Trier.

And to the people of Trier, all Intisians were either Trier natives or provincial outsiders.

Aurora gazed dreamily:

“A prophet once said:

“As long as Trier stands, joy shall endure in the world.” (Note 1)

Note 1: Adapted from Nostradamus, The Hundred Poems

(End of Chapter)