Chapter 43: Confession

Sure enough, it’s cycling again… Hearing Aurora’s reply, Lumian wasn’t surprised at all.

So far, this was the third cycle he could remember; combining his own experiences with the mysterious woman’s hints, he had formed a preliminary summary:

“The time limit of the cycle is the twelfth night;

“The spatial limit is the village of Kordu and its surrounding area;

“The personnel restriction is that you cannot kill the parish priest.

“These are the three key points of the cycle…”

Thinking of this, Lumian looked at Aurora and asked thoughtfully:

“Sister, if you were to write a novel about a time loop, where would you place the key to breaking it?”

“Suddenly asking such a question, and sweetly calling me sister…” Aurora scrutinized Lumian up and down, puzzled. “Thinking of a new lie?”

“Something like that,” Lumian answered sincerely.

Aurora frowned slightly, thought for a while, then said:

“From a novelist’s perspective—or from normal logic—the most crucial part of a loop must be the final scene, because it’s both the end of this cycle and the seed of the next, the clasp that connects the conclusion to the beginning; without it, linear time can’t become a closed loop.

“Think about it: if you trace the loop backward, there must have been a first time, and something must have happened at the very end to trigger the reset.”

The twelfth night? Lumian accepted his sister’s theory and nodded, then asked:

“But why couldn’t the key be the first day of the cycle? Shouldn’t we ask why it started from this exact moment?”

Aurora smiled:

“Making up short stories to fool a few people is your strength, but this kind of content—needing tight logic and deep knowledge—isn’t your thing.

“The first day is the first day only because the force—or energy—causing the loop can only extend backward to cover up to that day. It’s like how the loop probably isn’t the whole world, just a place—not because you don’t want it to be wider, but because you can’t.”

Lumian had actually thought of this himself; he’d just assumed his knowledgeable, well-traveled sister might come up with a different answer.

Aurora thought a moment longer and added:

“If the loop isn’t a completely closed circle, but allows interaction between inside and outside—say, information can leak out, outsiders can enter but not leave—then the first day might be defined as the day the outsider arrived, to give them a ‘place’ in the cycle. Of course, you could also force the outsider to begin doing things on the original first day that they wouldn’t have done until later; there are too many ways to write such stories.”

Lumian’s eyes lit up; he wanted to shout out praise for his sister.

He suspected that Lyra, Ryan, and Valentine’s entry was what caused the cycle to begin on the afternoon of March 29th.

If that were true, the twelfth night might already have become the tenth or ninth night—or perhaps it was originally the thirteenth night, and the outsiders’ intrusion pushed it to the twelfth.

All of these were possible; Lumian would have to verify them himself.

He fully agreed with his sister’s reasoning: something must have happened on the twelfth night to trigger the cycle, and only by understanding what occurred then could he possibly find the key to breaking it.

So Lumian decided that in this cycle, he would avoid disturbing any anomalies at all, and even skip the Lenten blessing procession with an excuse, staying “quietly” until the twelfth night.

But he couldn’t do nothing—time didn’t allow it.

Unless Lumian broke the cycle right after experiencing the twelfth night this time, next cycle he’d be racing against time.

One full cycle lasts twelve days; after this cycle ends, the probability that the outside world notices something wrong in Kordu rises sharply. Lumian had at most one full cycle to solve the problem—possibly less.

To stop the anomaly within a single cycle, he needed enough intelligence, a thorough understanding of every detail in the village.

Avoid triggering the anomaly while investigating its source… Lumian couldn’t help mocking himself inwardly:

What’s the difference between this and a clown walking a tightrope at the edge of a cliff?

Wanting both is never a good thing.

Seeing Lumian silent for several seconds, as if already crafting a story, Aurora waved her hand:

“Almost forgot to make dinner!”

“Wait.” Lumian looked at Aurora with a serious, heavy expression.

Aurora immediately made a “tsk” sound:

“I smell mischief.”

Lumian spoke bluntly:

“Aurora, uh, sister—we’re already caught in a loop.”

“Hah, you learned it just now and you’re already using it on your own sister?” Aurora was both annoyed and amused.

Sometimes people still need a little trust… Lumian silently sighed, then smiled:

“At least let me finish telling you this story, okay?

“Maybe give it a grade?”

Aurora glanced out the window at the still-bright sky:

“Fine.”

Lumian began with his encounter with Lyra and the other outsiders, outlining how he stayed conscious in his dream, entered a unique ruin, hunted monsters, gained extraordinary traits, and became a “Hunter.”

He didn’t hide the thorned circular emblem on his chest, because it might be tied to the key of the time loop—he’d seen the same symbol on the parish priest, and killing him triggered the reset.

Aurora had started smiling, thinking her brother’s tale was creatively inventive, but as she listened, her expression grew serious—many of these details were knowledge Lumian shouldn’t have access to.

When Lumian said he had become an extraordinary being, she finally moved, raising her right hand to press her temples.

Her pale blue eyes instantly deepened, yet reflected no image.

She studied Lumian for a moment, then nodded lightly:

“Your etheric body has changed dramatically—your life energy and physical state far exceed those of an ordinary person.

“Your astral body has changed slightly, but not much…

“Definitely a ‘Hunter’—better at close combat than spellcasting…

“I can’t discern the symbol or its changes, and I dare not look deeper…”

Here, Aurora puckered her lips, still puzzled, and asked:

“You didn’t make up this ridiculous story just to make me accept that you’ve become an extraordinary being, did you?”

This was classic Lumian.

Lumian didn’t explain; he began recounting the esoteric knowledge the woman had implanted in him.

Of course, he only mentioned the names briefly, without elaboration.

It wasn’t because he had moral principles—refusing to tell even his sister until the woman gave permission—but because she was clearly immensely powerful; if he leaked her precious knowledge and angered her, the time loop might be solved… but he’d be dead.

“Law of Imperishability… Law of Aggregation… Role-playing Method…” Aurora froze completely.

Her magically illiterate brother had mastered these priceless insights!

She had been an extraordinary being for over five years; at first she relied on Emperor Rosel’s diary, later joined that organization, and through her own path’s esoteric symbols, she’d gradually gathered the three foundational pillars of the supernatural world—the Role-playing Method, the Law of Imperishability of Extraordinary Traits, and the Law of Conservation of Extraordinary Traits—and prided herself as a well-read, if inexperienced, extraordinary being, far ahead of most of her kind.

Now, her brother—who had never touched esotericism—was reciting these very things, and even knew something she didn’t: the Law of Aggregation of Extraordinary Traits!

This ruled out the possibility that Lumian had stolen from her witchcraft notes.

As an extraordinary being of the “Watcher” path, Aurora suppressed her urge to learn the details of the Aggregation Law and looked at her brother, confused, astonished, and worried:

“What did you give up to make that woman teach you these things?”

Even the potion recipes were given for free!

She studied Lumian again, from head to toe, searching for what he might have lost.

“Nothing,” Lumian chuckled bitterly. “That’s what’s terrifying—I don’t know what price I’ll pay later. I suspect it’s tied to the symbol on my chest and that dream ruin; the woman probably wants me to unravel the corresponding secret.”

Aurora murmured, “Hmm.”

“Go on.”

She waited for the rest of the “story” with solemn attention.

Lumian told of the owl, the changes during Lent, their experiences in the second cycle, and how the moment they tried to leave Kordu, the loop reset immediately.

Aurora listened carefully, then muttered in disbelief:

“Either I was hypnotized and told you everything, or time really is looping…”

She began to believe Lumian—because the name of her “Pin of Honesty” was one she’d chosen herself, never written down anywhere; unless she’d told him directly, he couldn’t possibly know it, and she had no memory of doing so.

Lumian pressed on:

“I can predict those three outsiders will appear at the old tavern tonight, predict the parish priest is having an affair with Madame Poulis, predict the shepherd Pierre Berry has returned to the village—and all three of his sheep are tainted…”

Aurora’s expression grew heavier with every word; after a long pause, she said:

“Those three outsiders arrived in the afternoon, and you and I were training in combat, then resting—we never went out.

“Hmm, during that afternoon’s combat lesson, you were still an ordinary person…”

She accepted Lumian’s claim that time was looping.

With anyone else, Lumian would’ve grinned and said, “You believed it? You actually believed that absurd story!” But facing Aurora, he remained restrained.

He then suggested:

“I’ll walk around the village now, see if I can gather more information.”

Aurora nodded:

“I’ll use my ‘eyes’ to look around too, but there are serious limits and great danger—I’m not sure I’ll find anything.”

Lumian waved his hand, signaling he understood, then walked toward the door.

After a few steps, he turned back to see Aurora’s silhouette standing in the kitchen, and suddenly recalled how she had pushed him to safety through countless undead—unbidden, a pang of separation pierced him.

He asked without thinking:

“Sister, why did you adopt me?”

Aurora snapped back:

“I didn’t want to!

“I just gave you some food, and you kept following me, wouldn’t leave no matter how hard I tried, and you were so sweet helping me with everything—I softened for a moment and… how was I supposed to know you’d grow up into this?”

“Do you have any idea how hard it was for a teenage girl to raise a kid like you?”

Hearing Aurora’s answer, Lumian wanted to thank her, to praise her—but the words stuck in his throat, as if flooding toward his eyes and nose.

He turned his head and walked toward the village.

(End of Chapter)