Chapter 665: Deep Night (Thank You, Zhuri Yiran, for Your Silver Alliance Donation Again and Again)

Like many churches in Intis, this one in Tizamo had a golden dome, like the sun's reflection on earth.

As soon as Lumian passed through the gate, the gold leaf inlaid on the walls, arches, and dome, the murals sprinkled with gold dust, and the golden statues blinded him momentarily; the sunlight streaming through the stained glass at the altar made him instinctively raise a hand to press down his golden straw hat.

It was nap time, and many lightly dressed, simple-clad townspeople of Tizamo sat in various spots, bowing their heads in prayer.

They cared nothing for the church's dazzling, luxurious appearance.

This was not only because they had all believed in the "Eternal Sun" since childhood, but also because the former Baylang Empire had been rich in gold mines, and its people had long favored gold—a preference that endured to this day.

Lumian also liked gold, but he did not wish to endure such intense sunlight.

Beside him, Giamu struggled to explain:

"I'm not spying on you, nor am I following you everywhere to prevent accidents.

"I'm offering you help. Your Dutan is still not fluent, and you lack sufficient understanding of Tizamo and its people—I can introduce them to you."

"Do you know them well?" Lumian asked, turning his head sideways with a smile.

Giamu rubbed his thick brown hair and answered without the slightest embarrassment:

"If there's anything I don't know, I can ask Meslo and the others for you."

Lumian had no objection to having an official Extraordinary among his companions—should trouble arise, he'd have an extra fighter.

He nodded lightly and said:

"Fine, follow me if you want."

As he spoke, Lumian walked toward the row of seats in front of the altar, enduring the blazing sunlight.

Giamu hesitated for several seconds, then found a seat in the farthest corner of the church.

As a believer of the "Earth Mother," he could enter any cathedral of the True Gods freely, but could not show worship.

As for Louis Berry, he only knew the man had close ties to the "Fool" Church, but whether he truly believed in the "Fool" remained uncertain.

Lumian, pretending to pray, controlled the twitching of his facial muscles with the endurance of a "Penitent," sat calmly under the sunlight, lowered his head before the preaching priest, and began his prayer.

The priest was a native of Pailos Port, named Cali, with standard dark-brown skin, sunken eye sockets, harsh features, thin black hair, and no clerical hat.

He was over forty, his expression solemn, preaching in Intis with no detectable accent.

Pretending to pray, Lumian was distracted, his mind flooded with thoughts—he felt as if he had returned to Keldu Village, where even during Mass or prayer, he'd wander aimlessly, only hastily praising the sun and wishing for his sister's good health and an easy university entrance exam near the end.

None of those wishes had come true.

When the priest finished his sermon, Lumian lifted his head, squinted slightly in the sunlight, and focused to observe Cali's fortune.

Nothing unusual.

On the surface, Tizamo truly seemed unremarkable… Amid the pain of sunburn, Lumian was about to withdraw his gaze, but a thought struck him—he activated the "Reaper's" "Weakness Reconnaissance" ability.

He thought of the parish priest, Guillaume Béne, and Father Monserrat of the "Earth Mother" Church.

Who said clerics of the True Gods couldn't have problems?

If so, it made sense to observe weaknesses in advance—in case a cleric did fall, he could resolve it swiftly.

Colors appeared on Cali's body, visible to Lumian's eyes.

But none were pale white!

This meant Cali had no weakness.

Impossible. Even if this priest was Extraordinary, his Sequence couldn't be high—how could he have no weakness? The "Sun" Path wasn't known for physical resilience… Could he be from another Path? No, all Paths should have weaknesses… Startled, Lumian observed even more carefully.

Finally, he spotted a faint pale white.

It wasn't on Cali's body—it was deep within his astral form, flickering faintly.

This meant the weakness was spiritual—afraid of attacks targeting the soul? How had he made his body invulnerable? At present, unless targeting the soul, he'd have to dismember the priest piece by piece to kill him… Lumian's shock faded swiftly, replaced by delight and anticipation.

Any discovery of abnormality was good!

It meant he was one step closer to the "Dream Festival" mentioned by "Xiso."

"Brother, what are you looking at?" Cali, holding the holy scripture, smiled as he asked Lumian, who was gazing up at him.

Lumian smiled and replied:

"I'm watching the sunlight on you.

"Praise the Sun!"

Saying this, Lumian stood, arms slightly spread, and turned to leave.

Now was not the time to investigate Cali's anomalies.

Cali was delighted by Lumian's answer.

First, because the man was subtly praising him as blessed by the sun's grace; second, as a local cleric with not a trace of Northern Continent blood, he had long craved recognition from Northern Continent gentlemen and ladies.

Leaving the church named Saint Cien, Lumian unhesitatingly directed Giamu, accompanying him as they circled Tizamo twice, including the military camp, plantations, and the edge of the primeval forest outside town.

Giamu carefully introduced every person he knew.

As evening approached, Lumian headed toward the Brieu Inn and asked casually:

"What did you do with that dead horse?"

"Sold it to the butcher. Planning to buy a new one from nearby plantation owners," Giamu replied indifferently.

Lumian felt a pang of disappointment for Ludwig, fell silent, and entered the inn.

Deep night.

Outside the Brieu Inn, in the shadows, Lumian emerged without his golden straw hat, walking toward the yellow-brown house rebuilt by "Xiso."

It was nearly dawn; Tizamo was utterly quiet. The only people still outside were occasional patrolling soldiers and drunken revelers, supported by their companions.

Under the crimson moonlight, Lumian passed the bar named "Giant Python" and heard muffled noise from within.

A few hundred meters away, in the primeval forest, the howls of wild beasts occasionally echoed.

Lumian walked on until he reached his destination, ascended to the third floor, and found the wooden bed he had napped on at noon.

He busied himself preparing, then didn't lie down immediately. Instead, he glanced around and murmured thoughtfully:

"Therimipolos, have you noticed any problems here?"

Therimipolos's grand, layered voice echoed within Lumian:

"I observe the outside world through your eyes, ears, nose, spirituality, and fate—I simply perceive slightly more than you do."

So he's saying his perception is still limited by my body, spirituality, and rank? Wait—this guy's becoming more cryptic than ever. He never directly answered whether this house had anomalies or where they were… Lumian snorted:

"Are you really an angel of the Fate Domain? I'm already Sequence 5, yet you can't use my eyes or spirituality to detect anything wrong here. Didn't you notice that even a Sequence 8 of the 'Monster' Path could sense the unusual coldness here?

"You're telling me an angel of the Destiny Path is weaker than a Sequence 8 of the Monster Path?"

The "Monster" Path is also called the "Fate" Path.

Lumian provoked Therimipolos, hoping to extract useful information from this angelic "Penitent."

He didn't expect much—but at least he'd lose nothing.

Therimipolos fell silent, as if vanished from within Lumian.

"You really can endure. No wonder you're an angelic 'Penitent,'" Lumian sneered, then pulled out the gold-cased pocket watch he'd taken from the Wind Dance Hall, pressed it open to check the time:

11: 1 PM.

He put the watch away, lay down on the wooden bed in the room.

He was here to test whether sleeping in this house at night would trigger anomalies, whether he could enter a special dream and participate in the "Dream Festival."

For this, Lumian had warned Ludwig beforehand: if he hadn't returned by the time Ludwig ate his second midnight snack, he was to forcibly wake him in this house rebuilt by Tewanako.

After Lumian promised a lavish meal tomorrow, Ludwig agreed.

Crackling, the grotesque spiders crawling on the house's exterior walls and the several mosquitoes inside the room burned and fell, filling the air with the scent of charred flesh.

Using meditation techniques, Lumian quickly fell into deep sleep.

In a daze, he slowly woke, sat up—and found himself still on the wooden bed, in the master bedroom on the third floor of "Xiso's" house.

Outside, night was deep; the crimson moonlight seemed blocked by thick clouds, only faint rays slipping through, unnaturally dim.

The wild beasts' howls and the distant bar noise had vanished entirely; the night had entered its most tranquil state—dead silent.

"No change…" Lumian sighed in disappointment.

He was about to pull out his gold-cased pocket watch to check the time, then leave the house and return to the Brieu Inn along the street, when his pupils suddenly dilated, his gaze freezing.

In the dim crimson moonlight, Lumian had just quickly scanned the floor:

He saw no corpses of mosquitoes!

The mosquitoes he had burned with his "Arsonist" ability before sleeping should have fallen to the floor as charred remains—but now, they were gone, the floor spotless, as if freshly swept!

"Could someone have come in while I slept and cleaned the room? I set up several traps around—how could they be bypassed so easily… 'Wraith'?" Lumian instantly tensed, pulled the gold-cased pocket watch from his shirt pocket beneath his vest, snapped it open, and checked the time:

11: 8 PM.

ps: Thank you, Zhuri Yiran, for your silver alliance donation again and again. We've now reached gold alliance status—per agreement, I'll add an extra chapter, scheduled for next weekend, since my wife just left the hospital and needs recovery time; I must help more with the baby and catch up on drafts.

(End of chapter)