Chapter 734: Guardian and Believer

Perle quickly focused her mind, standing at the position of the "Overseer" and gazing at every empty corner of the current quarry hollow.

The place was now utterly dark, save for the flickering dim yellow glow of a tipped-over carbide lamp, tinged with faint blue.

As her gaze moved, Perle "saw" Lumian, and she "saw" Anthony.

Both stood at the exit of the quarry hollow, but that location was an isolated boundary of this special mirror world—not an actual passage, and thus unusable for escape.

At this moment, Lumian faced Perle's direction, already wearing the "Torture" gauntlets with iron-black spines, and holding a brass-colored revolver.

Anthony was hidden behind him, his back turned, their distance extremely close.

But the "Hypnotist" was not standing—he knelt on one knee, placing a blank sketchbook on his right thigh as a support, and swiftly drawing with a short stub of pencil.

"Vessel of Fiction"!

Lumian and Anthony were inside the "Vessel of Fiction" constructed around the quarry hollow's exit.

Yet to Perle, the Overseer watching all within this mirror world, it had no effect—she could directly see where Lumian and Anthony hid.

Observing this scene, the "Overseer" Perle sensed discord, abnormality, a hint of something belonging to the gray realms:

As the team's leader, the strongest among them, Lumian had adopted a posture meant to buy time for the "Audience" Path adept.

Whether he was gambling that she truly wouldn't kill him, merely wishing to capture him as a shield, it proved the "Audience" Path adept's actions were of vital importance—something he believed could harm an "Overseer," or help them escape from an "Overseer's" sight!

Perle did not hesitate. Gazing at Lumian and Anthony within the "Vessel of Fiction," she spoke with "Words of Order":

"There are no secrets before the Overseer!"

The moment she finished speaking, the "Vessel of Fiction" built around the quarry hollow's exit dissolved silently.

But Perle noticed: while Lumian was no longer protected by the "Vessel of Fiction," a second "Vessel of Fiction" still surrounded Anthony—it had not collapsed under the Overseer's words!

After confirming this detail, Lumian smiled.

The "Vessel of Fiction" encircling Anthony was constructed upon Anthony himself as its foundation.

His spread legs formed a symbolic door with the earth.

Lumian slightly arched his body, gazing at Overseer Perle, and muttered silently with a twisted smile:

"Yes, Anthony is doing something I instructed him to do—something vital.

"But only by knocking me down can you break the 'Vessel of Fiction' built upon me, a living man—any attempt to harm Anthony must first cross me!

"Now, I am Anthony's shield, the wall protecting him!"

Perle's smile faded slightly; her expression darkened as she looked at Lumian:

"You are guilty!

"You have killed!"

Killing… Lumian's heart gave a slight jolt.

He was not startled by the fact that he had killed before—he was stunned that Overseer Perle would accuse him of this crime.

No matter what form the punishment took, the final verdict would not change:

The killer shall die!

Didn't she want to capture me alive? Lumian had chosen to become Anthony's shield precisely because he hoped Perle would dare not kill him—otherwise, many of her abilities would be restricted, giving him time to delay until Anthony completed the sketch he desired on the extraordinary sketchbook obtained from the "Bard"—a book whose power was to bring drawn things to life, or manifest special effects, sustaining them for a time.

Who knew this plan had collapsed from the very start.

Of course, Lumian had not placed all his bets on the Overseer wanting to capture him—he knew defeating a demi-god was impossible—but if he only needed to buy a little time, he still had a sliver of hope.

A deep rumble of thunder echoed in the low half-air of the quarry hollow; one after another silver-white lightning serpents leapt forth, coiling into a thunderous tree as thick as a barrel, then striking straight at Lumian.

Before the thunder's echo had fully faded and the lightning had yet to fall, Lumian had already raised his hands, aiming the brass revolver at the punishment from this world.

His blue eyes turned entirely iron-black, yet he saw no weakness in the terrifying thunder.

He could only pour wave after wave of blazing white flame into the revolver, into the bullet about to be fired.

Bang!

As the clawing silver-white thunder-tree crashed down, a bullet shimmering with faint emerald and wreathed in layers of blazing white flame shot from the barrel, meeting the massive lightning.

"Weakness Bullet"!

This was the "Weakness Bullet" obtained from Yebusi!

In an instant, the thunderbolt as thick as a barrel shattered the emerald bullet and the blazing white flames around it.

A sudden burst of silver-white light drowned Lumian completely.

Boom!

The terrifying roar reached Anthony a beat late, shaking his body instinctively, nearly robbing him of hearing.

He was reminded again of the night the military camp was attacked by worshippers of the demonic god—gunfire, artillery, screams, battle cries, relentless and coming from all directions, filling him with panic and terror, leaving deep psychological scars that took years to heal.

Now, he felt as if he had returned to that scene.

Anthony steadied himself, gazing at the blank sketchbook before him, continuing his sketch, the pencil moving softly across the page.

He still remembered Lumian's body language just now:

"Unless I die, and someone steps over my corpse, no one can harm you!"

Compared to the chaos and helplessness of that night in the military camp, where everyone feared for themselves, Anthony felt the current situation was not so dire.

At least, I have a trusted companion!

At least, someone behind me will fight to protect me!

Amid the scattered silver-white lightning serpents, Lumian's body first shattered into countless mirror fragments, then blackened and carbonized, crumbling to dust.

The "Mirror Substitute" given by Jianna!

Lumian's figure reformed, still standing firmly in place, legs spread as before.

Boom, boom, boom—the thunder in midair did not cease after the previous punishment; it brewed a new round of execution.

Once the Overseer has filed charges, punishment continues until the verdict is fully enforced!

Lumian's scalp prickled; his black hair and body hairs stood slightly on end from residual electric currents in the air.

After a few seconds of buildup, a far grander, far more terrifying lightning bolt descended silently.

Lumian had already clenched his teeth, discarded the revolver, raised both hands, and precisely met the lightning's tip with the iron-black spiked "Torture" gauntlets, while one after another blazing white fireballs coalesced above him.

The "Torture" gauntlets could block a divine strike at the cost of their own shattering or breaking!

Boom!

In the sudden, horrific explosion, the lightning-formed silver-white tree of death halted at Lumian's fist, halted upon the "Torture" gauntlets.

Boom, boom, boom—the blazing white fireballs erupted, pushing the shattered fragments of lightning away.

This lightning punishment ended quickly, yet the dull thunder in midair continued.

Crack, crack, crack—the "Torture" gauntlets on Lumian's hands blackened and cracked, breaking into many small pieces that fell one by one to the ground.

Seeing a new massive lightning bolt about to form, Lumian, though knowing he shouldn't, couldn't help mentally urge Anthony:

"Why isn't it done yet?

"I can only block one more time!"

After a brief, stifled silence, a colossal silver-white lightning serpent shot down from midair, illuminating the entire quarry hollow—and Perle's smile.

Lumian had only time to do the one thing he could:

He animated his shadow, swapping its position with his own.

Boom!

In a sharp, rapid thunderclap, the lightning serpent devoured the shadow, dissolving and evaporating it instantly, leaving not a trace.

Finally, this punishment ended; Lumian's body reappeared before Anthony, legs slightly spread, back slightly arched—but his feet now had no shadow.

"Why isn't it done yet?" Lumian thought anxiously.

He considered whether to dissolve the "Vessel of Fiction" and teleport Anthony away.

But he saw clearly: the punishment based on the Overseer's charges would not end simply because he changed position—and with lightning's speed, he could not evade it by teleportation.

It wasn't that teleportation was too slow—he needed time to activate the black mark on his right shoulder.

Hum, hum, hum—the dull thunder never ceased at Lumian's ears, heralding the next punishment.

Behind Lumian, Anthony, kneeling on one knee with his right thigh as a table, had beads of sweat the size of soybeans forming on his forehead.

The earlier parts of the sketch had gone well and been completed swiftly, but this final stroke had suddenly become agonizingly difficult.

The sketchbook influenced the pencil, which began violently draining Anthony's spirituality—but such vast amounts of spirituality could only push the black line forward with excruciating slowness.

Meanwhile, the edges of the blank page curled inward and ignited with transparent flames, as if unable to bear what Anthony was about to draw.

Anthony knew clearly this was beyond what the sketchbook could depict—but he fully trusted Lumian's judgment and continued his effort.

Boom, boom, boom!

The dull thunder grew louder; even Anthony within the "Vessel of Fiction" could hear it clearly.

As a "Psychiatrist," he was losing control of his composure—nervousness, impatience, anxiety, panic surged simultaneously.

He restrained himself, continuing the final stroke.

Seeing the terrifying silver-white lightning nearly formed, and Anthony behind him still motionless, even Lumian's mind began to despair.

"Is this how I die?

"Fine—I'll see what Tormipolos looks like!

"Die…" Suddenly, a flash of inspiration lit up Lumian's mind.

He reached behind him and pulled something from the "Traveler's Satchel."

It was a golden mask painted with streaks of oil paint.

The golden mask obtained from Xiso, originating from the "Death God"!

Lumian swiftly placed the golden mask over his face; his body rapidly turned cold, his aura gradually silenced.

The terrifying lightning brewing in midair suddenly halted.

Lu Mi raised his head, gazing at the silver-white lightning snakes that no longer converged, his lips curving beneath the golden mask.

He was now an undead being!

One of the golden mask's functions was to turn its wearer into an undead being while preserving his consciousness!

Since Lu Mi had already "died," the punishment had achieved its purpose—and ended immediately!

Seeing this, the Supervisor was momentarily startled, then understood what had happened.

She let out a soft laugh, without losing her composure.

While the punishment kept falling, she had not been idle; she had prepared for possible contingencies.

She used a coin purse to create the "Dark Box" and completed a transaction!

Her right hand was about to retract.

Behind Lu Mi, Anthony saw the rolled edges of the paper and the nearly invisible flames spreading rapidly toward the center of the drawing, his despair deepening.

Even if he completed the final stroke, the page would clearly be ruined and yield no effect.

Anthony clenched his teeth but still chose to trust his companion, to trust Lu Mi.

He remembered Lu Mi's earlier instruction:

"Draw Monite first, then the 'Magician' lady!"

Monite, that island conman Monite… Anthony had just flashed this thought when he suddenly saw the rolled edges of the paper halt, the invisible flames briefly frozen.

His pencil then grew smooth.

He channeled his spirituality and finished drawing a single eyepiece, outlined by simple lines, over the right eye of the islander depicted in the sketch—dark, slightly curled hair, a thin face, sunken eye sockets, and full lips.

(End of Chapter)