Chapter 813: Alliance?

Found? How? I'm truly a shadow creature now… Confused, Lumian emerged directly from the shadow.

He instantly teleported to the side of that tin soldier.

Thud-thud-thud, the tin soldier sprinted past him, then realized the target had moved, forcing it to slow abruptly, twist half its body, and swing its greatsword sideways.

Lumian was ready—he leapt high, wreathed in blazing white flame that burned the surrounding air, and punched the tin soldier's neck.

Clang!

In the sound of a church bell, the tall, heavy, hardened tin soldier was driven back a step.

A fist-sized dent appeared on its metal-plated neck, surrounded by fine cracks like a spiderweb.

Lumian's strike was pure "Harvest," with no attempt to scout its weakness—there was no need.

He had thoroughly read *The Making and Maintenance of Puppets* and knew exactly where such tin soldiers were vulnerable!

Of course, he'd also observed beforehand, confirming this tin soldier was standard, unmodified.

The tin soldier, struck by "Harvest," went berserk—its greatsword slashed, swept, chopped, and hacked, engulfing a five-to-six-meter radius in a storm of attacks.

Lumian directly "Teleported" over ten meters away, watching the tin soldier, one hand in his pocket, extending his right palm.

One by one, blazing white fireballs coalesced, rushing forward in relentless waves to bombard the tin soldier.

The dark red glow in the tin soldier's eyes flared brightly, locking onto Lumian as it charged toward him.

Boom!

It cleaved through the white flame ahead, enduring the bombardment of other fireballs, pushing forward through smoke and fire.

Almost simultaneously, it lost Lumian's trail again.

Lumian teleported onto its shoulder, crouched, and swung his fist downward toward the previous dent.

Whoosh—the blazing white flame erupted violently across his knuckles.

Clang!

Again came the sound of a hammer striking a great bell.

Lumian's form immediately faded, evading the tin soldier's left hand, which dropped its greatsword and reached for him.

The next instant, a chorus of creaks erupted as the dent on the tin soldier's neck fully shattered.

The spiderweb-like fissures around it rapidly spread to its head and torso.

The tin soldier staggered forward, metal shards peeling off one by one, as if raining iron.

Lumian's figure swiftly materialized nearby, laughing:

"Didn't you learn from last time?"

"Still repeating the same mistake?"

"Oh, I forgot—you don't have a brain."

No sooner had Lumian finished speaking than the struggling tin soldier fully collapsed, crumbling into a pile of metal fragments.

Only then did Lumian turn his gaze to the other side of Dardes Agriculture Company.

The remaining tin soldier burned silently with black flames, its movements slowing, rust spreading across its surface.

Clang! It collapsed to the ground, motionless, its oppressive aura gone.

Julie, clad in a cotton nightgown revealing fleeting glimpses of her figure, stood calmly beside it, watching the tin soldier shrink rapidly until it reverted to the size and shape of a child's toy.

The metal fragments near Lumian also shrank, soon reduced to mere residue.

Julie turned her gaze to him, smiling gracefully:

"Boss, you're even stronger than I imagined."

Compliment me all you want—but why are you staring at my crotch? Lumian snorted:

"You're not weak either."

Julie blinked:

"Then why won't you look at me when you say it?"

"Because you don't have anything down there." Lumian ignored Julie and walked straight toward Dardes Agriculture Company.

Julie's expression darkened instantly, her face flickering between light and shadow in the firelight.

After a few seconds, she gritted her teeth:

"Soon you won't either."

At that moment, Lumian reached the half-collapsed building and examined the battle traces left behind.

"Explosion, extreme heat, fire—attacks directly targeting critical structural points… Definitely a fight between Hunters… Someone was wounded, more than one, but all blood had been burned to charred traces…" Lumian swiftly circled the explosion ruins, discovering multiple corpses.

Some corpses were ordinary—likely company night guards killed by blast debris, smoke asphyxiation, fire, or falling debris; others were reduced to bloody chunks or incomplete remains, as if violently disassembled.

Lumian noticed one corpse with a relatively intact head: a faint red dot protruded slightly from its forehead, and beneath the skin, something seemed to be slowly wriggling, trying to emerge.

"I've seen a similar mark on Guxin's forehead…"

"So the Iron Blood Cross is trying to assassinate Varnack…"

"With Albus Medici's involvement, they've gained courage and begun eliminating potential rivals and interferers?"

"But they didn't succeed… Varnack is truly powerful—facing the Iron Blood Cross's siege, with Albus and Guxin possibly present, he still managed to kill several and escape…"

"Is the Iron Blood Cross truly cooperating with Albus? Do they really believe this Medici descendant? Doesn't Guxin know what the name Medici means?"

"Hmm, they know—but they want to use Albus Medici. A partnership of mutual schemes?"

As Lumian's mind flashed through these thoughts, Julie walked over and stopped beside him.

"What did you find?" Julie asked.

Lumian chuckled:

"Shouldn't you be asking me? You 'Witches' specialize in divination—I don't."

Julie's expression had returned to normal; her eyes gleamed as she said:

"I tried. No results. One or more of them carried items of high rank."

Before Lumian could respond, she glanced sideways at her boss:

"The Albus you fear seems to have formed an alliance with Guxin's group."

Lumian nodded slightly:

"They're probably trying to eliminate Varnack."

"Then they'll try to eliminate me, eliminate you, eliminate all Hunters and Witches in Morola." Julie smiled faintly, extending an invitation: "Boss, I know you won't trust me, and I can't trust you—unless you're left with only that one thing—but facing the threat from Albus and Guxin, can't we temporarily cooperate?"

You? A witch who refuses to study and only revels in perversion—why should I cooperate with you? I just want to learn quietly and focus… Lumian muttered inwardly, then laughed:

"Sure."

His goal was the information and preparations accumulated by the Witch Cult—cooperation made acquisition easier.

Julie was about to say more when she suddenly spotted a squad of black-robed enforcers jogging from the direction of the Knowledge Church.

Her eyes flickered; she told Lumian:

"I'll leave first. We'll talk again tomorrow morning."

Lumian glanced at the lead enforcer—Sarilist wasn't among them.

He responded thoughtfully:

"Alright."

Julie immediately stepped into the nearby shadow and vanished from his sight.

Lumian stared at the corpses in the ruins for several seconds, then turned and left Dardes Agriculture Company, turning into the nearest alley.

In the darkness, he walked at a steady pace, pondering a question he'd just realized:

Could there be too many Iron Blood Cross operatives infiltrating Morola?

Just to deal with Varnack, four or five had already died!

This isn't just about whether they could infiltrate so many members or whether the Knowledge Church was too lax—it's that no secret organization would willingly accept such massive losses.

Remember, Morola is the seal site of "0—01"; every Exalted sent here must be prepared to sacrifice themselves with near-certainty.

The Witch Cult sent only one Sequence-5 Exalted at a time—if the previous Witch lost contact and never responded, they wouldn't send a second. Could the Iron Blood Cross truly be so indifferent to its lower-tier Exalted, using them as cannon fodder?

"Hmm, for war, this might not seem strange—but a sane commander only sacrifices soldiers at critical moments, not letting them die on the way… or perhaps Guxin has recruited a large number of new Hunters in Morola…" Lumian suddenly recalled Guxin and the red mark on the corpse's forehead, the stone statue and oil lamp deep in the underground mist, "Or perhaps the true Iron Blood Cross members are only Guxin and two or three others, and the rest are mass-produced via special covenant rituals?"

Pondering this, Lumian smiled:

"If that's true, something very amusing might happen the next time Guxin holds a ritual to create soldiers—my infused oil lamp should produce a different result…"

"I wonder what kind of soldiers will appear…"

Lumian quickened his pace and soon returned to the "Carnivore" bar, sitting before his desk, shaping a ball of blazing white flame into a gas lamp.

He wanted to finish reading *Examples of Underground Mausoleum Construction* so he could take the exam at the Knowledge Church tomorrow morning and borrow more books.

"Don't let anything else interrupt my studying…" Lumian muttered, burying himself in his reading.

Amid the occasional rustling of pages, he suddenly turned his head, fixing the mirror in the room with a cold, sharp gaze.

The mirror's surface shimmered, revealing a figure with iron-black eyes, crimson hair, and sharply defined features.

Varnack? The Varnack who was just attacked? Lumian narrowed his eyes slightly, saying nothing, waiting for the other to speak.

Varnack's figure swayed gently, as if disturbed by ripples in water.

He asked in a low voice:

"Do you want to kill Guxin and Albus Medici?"

(End of Chapter)