Chapter 668: New Information (Thank You, Old Kehler, for the Silver Alliance)

Lu Mi rarely saw "Penitent" Bayinfei act so unusually; he asked with a hint of anticipation and curiosity:

"What did you find?"

Bayinfei, clad in the black robe of a clergyman, his body entirely charred and partially clinging to black flames, lowered his gaze and replied in a low voice:

"The night conceals the flowing sins."

With that, the "Penitent" stepped into the void and vanished from the room.

The night conceals the flowing sins… Was "night" emphasized because only deep night allows entry into that special dream? What does "flowing sins" mean? Can't you mysterious types say something easier to understand? Lu Mi muttered inwardly, then opened Fu Lan Ka's letter and began reading quickly.

To be honest, after so much time had passed, his desire to learn about the past experiences of that humanoid sealed object had faded considerably; initially, he'd merely been moved by how similar its condition seemed to his own, prompting him to make that suggestion—but now, that emotion had long settled.

Of course, it was only settled, not gone; Lu Mi pulled the letter closer and wrote down the entire sequence of events, planning to mail it to the "Magician" lady at noon tomorrow.

As for whether this holder of the Major Arcana would agree, or be willing to undertake such an uneven transaction, Lu Mi had little confidence—yet he intuitively felt that the Major Arcana of the Tarot Society would rarely keep important items lost by the True Gods' churches; it was far more likely they'd simply skim a little profit from them.

Outside the Buriu Inn, Lu Mi calmly watched as Jiamu emerged from the shadowed corner of the dark street, where the crimson moonlight barely reached, his yellow vest open, accompanied by Ruiya, the local patrol officer in leather armor with a hunting bow slung across his back.

"Why two of you today?" Lu Mi chuckled, stepping toward the house where "Xiso" lived.

Jiamu took a breath, steadying the sudden surge of emotion, and replied in a somber tone as he walked beside Lu Yi Beili's left side:

"It's only a few days until the 17th; an accident could happen at any moment—we can't act alone anymore."

After deliberately gathering intelligence, the patrol had uncovered several anomalies, making Jiamu feel it unwise to remain in Dizamo Town, his mind perpetually tense.

He increasingly felt the weight of middle age, burdened by heavy responsibilities.

Lu Mi raised his right eyebrow:

"Oh? You've already figured out the significance of the 17th?"

"We're not idiots," Jiamu finally snapped back. "It's obvious—the attack on Dizamo Town last year occurred on December 17th, and in previous years…"

Here he fell silent.

He realized that whenever he was near Lu Yi Beili, his mind kept shifting between the suppressed, mature state he was forced into and the emotionally volatile adolescence he couldn't fully control.

Lu Mi asked with interest:

"What about previous years?"

Jiamu paused for several seconds before saying:

"We obtained the burial records of Dizamo Town from Saint Cien Church and found a peculiar pattern: eighty percent of annual deaths cluster in the three months following mid-December."

"This isn't like many places on the North Continent, where brutal winters kill the elderly and frail—even if it were, late December through late March is summer here."

"This phenomenon is abnormal."

Lu Mi walked slowly, nodding gently:

"Is the death rate in Dizamo Town higher than elsewhere?"

"Significantly higher—but mostly due to attacks by the primitive tribe in the jungle. Also, we noticed their attacks are concentrated in the same three-month window, two to three times per year; since the December 17th attack last year, there's been none at all. These patterns are suspicious." Jiamu worried a major attack might come these days.

"Heh, it's understandable that tribal attacks would concentrate deaths in the first three months. Any other anomalies?" Lu Mi asked, as if taking a leisurely stroll.

The answer came from Ruiya, silently trailing behind.

The brown-skinned, brown-haired woman, whose beauty carried a wild edge, spoke in a slightly hoarse voice:

"This year, several women in town and the plantations began experiencing nausea, acid reflux, bloating—symptoms of pregnancy. They all believed they'd been haunted, that they'd give birth to monstrous offspring—but none were actually pregnant; these were hallucinations. Father Cali held masses and performed simple purifications, offering them psychological relief, and they soon returned to normal."

"We've also noticed similar incidents in past years—always in the first half of the year. The same applies to other delusions: people claiming they were possessed or attacked by demons or ghosts, not just pregnancy." Jiamu added.

Lu Mi stopped walking:

"Group hysteria occurs every year—don't townspeople and plantation workers find it strange?"

As a local patrol officer, Ruiya explained simply:

"Everyone assumes it's caused by the primitive tribe in the jungle."

"Why?" Lu Mi resumed his nighttime "stroll."

Ruiya's vocal cords seemed damaged; her voice was always hoarse:

"Time and again, in attacks and clashes, that primitive tribe has demonstrated the ability to command corpses, ghosts, and shadows—and some of their warriors appear to remain as spirits after death, continuing to guard their tribe."

The domain of death… Huh. On the surface, the logic is perfectly closed—no wonder Dizamo people who left town never saw anything odd, never spoke of it… Lu Mi had read accounts of that primitive tribe, but not as detailed as Ruiya's.

After asking what other intelligence the patrol had gathered, Lu Mi halted before the house where "Xiso" lived, glancing sideways at Ruiya, whose hunting bow and arrows were slung across her back:

"You're from the South Continent, but not native to Dizamo Town?"

Ruiya nodded, speaking calmly:

"I'm from the jungle—of a tribe called 'Paka.' We lived mostly near the Pas River Valley."

The rainforests of the South Continent stretch vast, covering vast regions of multiple tribal territories; the distance from near the Pas River Valley to this area near Matani Province may exceed that from Kerd Village to Teril.

—"Paka" means "wind" in Dutan.

"How did you end up in Matani Province?" Lu Mi asked, slightly curious.

Ruiya gave a quiet laugh:

"I was sold."

She paused, then added:

"Ten years ago, my tribe was attacked by the Ruin Kingdom's army. I was captured, sold multiple times, taken to the Northern Provinces. Later, I escaped, fled to Pailos Port, received help from the Church, got a job, and eventually—luckily—became an extraordinary."

The local patrol officer spoke of her past calmly, neither dramatizing the suffering nor avoiding it.

No wonder she devoutly believes in the "Eternal Sun"… Lu Mi climbed the outdoor staircase leading to the second floor, speaking in the same calm tone:

"You use a bow instead of firearms—is that an old habit you kept?"

"Yes. Tribes named after wind are skilled with bows." Ruiya's tanned face softened instantly.

Lu Mi glanced back at her:

"Have you ever gone back to visit?"

Ruiya fell silent for several seconds before saying:

"They're all dead…"

Lu Mi and Jiamu fell silent together, turned away their gazes, finished climbing the last few stairs, and entered the second floor of the house.

Looking at the spacious but crude interior, listening to the wild animal howls from the jungle, Lu Mi sat cross-legged.

He'd wanted to tell Ruiya, "Your tribe couldn't have all died—some must have been captured and sold, like you were. They might still be alive—in some plantation, some mine, some dance hall or bar"—but he held his tongue.

He could see she'd accepted her current life and had gained the ability to make it better; urging her to journey across both continents, risking everything to find surviving kin, would be inappropriate.

Even imagining such a task felt burdensome: too few leads, too scattered, far too dangerous—even if spent a lifetime, success was unlikely. Not everyone with similar trauma sacrifices their normal life to seek vengeance or reunion.

Ruiya probably knew some of her kin still lived—but perhaps the ones most important to her were gone, and she chose to stay in Pailos Port.

Everyone makes their own choices; I can't impose my own obsessions on others… Lu Mi adjusted his state, smiled at Jiamu and Ruiya, who still stood:

"Would you like to see the place where the 'Dream Festival' might be held?"

"Where?" Ruiya blurted out.

Jiamu frowned slightly:

"Here?"

He quickly guessed:

"You come here every night to sleep… to reach the Dream Festival location?"

"In that special dream?"

His mind is decent… Lu Mi silently praised, yet kept his smile as he replied:

"Want to experience it?"

Jiamu and Ruiya exchanged a glance, then said:

"I'll experience it. Ruiya, keep watch."

"I can set some traps," Lu Mi stood up, spending a few minutes placing several alerting traps nearby.

Then he lit a mosquito-repellent candle and placed it in the center of the spacious second floor.

Crackling sounds followed as mosquitoes, too slow to flee, fell one by one to the ground, burning and smoking.

"Sleep here," Lu Mi sat cross-legged again, telling Jiamu and Ruiya.

He'd confirmed: at midnight, sleeping anywhere inside the "Xiso" house led to that special dream; sleeping outside or two hours earlier had no effect.

Jiamu and Ruiya, half-skeptical, each found a spot, leaning against different wooden pillars, attempting to fall asleep.

After an unknown length of time, Jiamu suddenly woke.

Before his eyes: the night outside the window, the crimson moonlight, the still-burning mosquito candle, and Lu Yi Beili, standing behind its flame, smiling at him.

The great adventurer wore a golden straw hat and spoke in a mocking tone:

"Welcome to the Dream Festival."

ps: Thank you, Old Kehler, for the Silver Alliance—this feels strangely inexplicable…

(End of Chapter)