Chapter 91: Not Happened (Requesting Monthly Tickets)

The wind outside the window rustled softly, almost silent; in this peaceful state, Lumian let his thoughts drift, following instinct to ponder certain things:

“There’s still light on the hallway—Lyra hasn’t slept yet; she’s still reading Aurora’s books…”

“My bedroom has no light—Valentine must be in bed resting; I wonder what Ryan is doing…”

"Heh, they didn't bring any wine the first time they came—completely unaware of Dariel's customs..."

“If we can truly break the cycle, my sister could become an informant for Bureau Eight; then she wouldn’t have to worry about being investigated when visiting Trier… As for me, being an informant shouldn’t require special tests, right?”

“Now we have a complete hypothesis; the only thing uncertain is what role the owl and the dead wizard played inside the tomb…”

“If they manipulated the parish priest and others, bringing about the anomaly, hoping to achieve some goal through the Twelfth Night ritual, then why, during these cycles, have they done nothing except monitor my progress exploring the dream ruins?”

“Could it be they, like Madame Poulais, are waiting for a specific moment—or for the Twelfth Night ritual—to complete the broken parts, so they don’t want any changes to the cycle and always restart it early?”

“Their behavior proves the cycle’s key lies with me—they keep coming back to confirm how far I’ve explored the dream ruins…”

“If I uncover the dream’s secret and master the method of containing the corruption before Twelfth Night, will they no longer fear the cycle restarting early, and instead act directly—seizing me by force?”

“Hmm, they probably retain their memories too…”

Amid these swirling thoughts, Lumian suddenly heard a faint sound.

“Baa…”

It was the cry of a sheep, as if coming from far away.

Lumian instantly thought of the three people turned into sheep, and of the shepherd Pierre Berry.

Could he really be planning to attack us in the dead of night? Lumian shot upright, listening intently.

Outside the window, only the wind rustled through leaves and branches—no “baa” to be heard.

It had probably just been a hallucination, brought on by Lumian’s deep concentration.

But he didn’t believe that—because he felt a faint warmth in his left chest.

The black thorn symbol seemed to have reappeared!

That meant some invisible force, closely tied to that hidden entity, had quietly seeped into the room.

Lumian didn’t have time to think further—he rushed two steps to the bed and shook Aurora.

“Wake up! Wake up!” he whispered sharply.

He was instinctively worried Lyra, Ryan, and Valentine would notice the anomaly on him.

Aurora opened her eyes; her pale blue irises still held clear traces of drowsiness and confusion.

“What time is it?” she asked weakly—clearly not fully awake.

“Something’s wrong,” Lumian said first, then added, “Half an hour until ten.”

They were among the few households in the village with wall clocks.

Aurora’s gaze sharpened instantly; she sat up quickly and pressed her temples with her right hand.

At this moment, she gave no thought to what might happen if she saw something she shouldn’t.

If they couldn’t quickly identify the anomaly and confirm the threat, there might be no need to see anything at all.

The dead don’t need eyes!

As her pupils deepened, seeming to reflect strange, indescribable lights and shadows, Aurora scanned the room.

Seizing the moment, Lumian told his sister about hearing the distant sheep cry and the activation of the black thorn symbol on his chest.

Aurora frowned and said:

“But I didn’t detect anything…”

“The heat on my chest is still there,” Lumian replied gravely.

He was suddenly gripped by inexplicable fear—the darkness around him felt anything but simple, hiding unspeakable danger.

Aurora carefully and intently examined every corner of the room, searching for the unknown threat.

In silence, cold sweat formed on Lumian’s back, sharply contrasting the warmth in his left chest.

After a moment’s thought, he said:

“Should we tell Ryan and the others? See if they can find the problem?”

Aurora considered, then nodded slightly:

“Use your sudden sense of danger as an excuse.”

“Alright.” Lumian opened his mouth to shout out into the hallway.

Suddenly, he froze.

“What’s wrong?” Aurora asked, concerned.

Lumian frowned and replied:

“The heat on my chest is fading rapidly…”

That meant the black thorn symbol was gradually “fading.”

“The danger that invaded our room has left?” Aurora mused. “Because we were prepared, it did nothing?”

“Maybe.” Lumian turned toward the hallway and called out, “Something’s happened!”

In an instant, Ryan appeared at the door, followed by Lyra, and finally Valentine, looking half-asleep and annoyed.

Before they could ask, Lumian replaced the heat on his chest with a sense of impending danger and recounted everything.

Ryan listened with intense focus, never doubting it was a hallucination, and remarked thoughtfully:

“Night watches really are useful.

“Most of the time it’s just boring waiting, but when it matters, it’s almost like saving everyone’s life.”

As he spoke, he caused tiny, pure rays of dawn to float around him, then walked through every room on the second floor.

Though he found no malevolent force, he at least sanctified the environment.

Lyra wandered around muttering incantations, her veil and silver bell boots jingling erratically—sometimes violently, sometimes silent.

Finally, she told Aurora and Lumian:

“It was extremely dangerous just now—and it had some anti-divination power; my seal item didn’t warn me in time. It probably only activates when it actually starts targeting someone—this damn bell won’t ring until then.

“But now, it’s gone.”

“Good,” Aurora exhaled slightly in relief.

“Maybe not ‘it,’” Lumian returned to normal, smiling. “It’s ‘them.’”

“...” Ryan and the others fell silent.

“That’s even scarier!” Aurora scolded Lumian, then turned to the three investigators. “Since the alarm’s over, let’s stick to our original schedule.”

She didn’t discuss who exactly had caused the intrusion—too many possibilities: the shepherd Pierre Berry, the unknown figure in the tomb, the abnormal parish priest.

Without enough clues, aimless speculation would only waste everyone’s rest time—better to wait until morning.

For now, they only needed to remember that nights were truly dangerous—if anyone tried to strike, they must raise their vigilance.

After Lyra and the others returned to their rooms, Lumian, bathed in the crimson moonlight seeping through the window, glanced at the wall clock and said to Aurora:

“Want to try sleeping a bit longer?”

“No, it’s too uncomfortable to fall asleep and wake up again in such a short time.” Aurora stretched her arms out, giving a decent yawn. “Ugh, this dress is stuffed with spell components and useful items—I couldn’t even turn over for fear of getting poked, slept so stiff.”

As she spoke, she swung off the bed and walked to the window, pulling back the curtain to glance outside.

Coledu Village lay in quiet stillness; many homes still glowed with light.

“Actually, I just thought the owl might have finally attacked us—but there’s no sign of it outside,” Aurora said, glancing left and right, explaining her actions to Lumian.

Lumian nodded:

“I thought the same.”

He then quietly told his sister every detail of his earlier thoughts.

“Good,” Aurora smiled in praise. “Your analytical skills have improved dramatically—I’ve got nothing to add.”

“But we can’t act yet—that tomb’s too dangerous…”

"Wait until daylight, and we can visit Mrs. Puaris, tell her your theory—that the dead wizard and the owl might have had intentions affecting her escape from the cycle at specific moments."

“When daylight comes, we can visit Madame Poulais. Tell her your theory—that the dead wizard and the owl might be connected to her escaping the cycle at a specific moment.”

“Fine, I’ll go myself.” Lumian was worried Madame Poulais might have designs on Aurora.

Aurora didn’t argue, only warned:

“Be careful—don’t provoke her, or else…”

She looked at Lumian’s stomach, letting the gesture replace the rest of her words.

"Actually, the mysterious lady in the old tavern is clearly stronger, but she has no desire to directly interfere with the cycle’s inner workings—she won’t take us to investigate that tomb chamber."

“The mysterious woman at the old tavern is clearly stronger—but she has no interest in directly interfering with the cycle; she won’t take us to investigate the tomb.”

He immediately added: "But I still plan to visit the old tavern tomorrow, to see if I can run into her—just in case she’s changed her mind."

He added: “But tomorrow I still plan to visit the old tavern—see if I can run into her. Maybe she’ll change her mind?”

“Hmm.” Aurora didn’t object.

The siblings whispered quietly, letting time slip second by second—soon, midnight arrived.

After handing over duty to Lyra in the study, Lumian returned to Aurora’s bedroom and lay beside her.

Breathing in her familiar scent, feeling the soft, springy pillow, he found himself oddly unable to sleep.

“What’s wrong?” Aurora noticed his stiffness.

“Not used to it,” Lumian replied, slightly awkward.

Aurora snorted:

“Is this really the bold Lumian I know?”

Before he could answer, she exhaled slowly and smiled: “Do you remember when you first followed me—you were terrified I’d sneak away, couldn’t sleep at night, always on edge?”

"I remember." Lu Mi also fell into memory. "Back then, you would hum songs to me, letting me fall asleep to your voice."

No sooner had he spoken than he heard that familiar melody—light, soothing, calming mind and body alike.

Aurora, propped against the bed, gazed at the crimson-tinged darkness ahead and softly hummed the tune from her homeland, her expression tender yet sorrowful.

It was the song her mother used to sing to lull her to sleep as a child.

"Sleep, sleep..."

Within the gentle melody, Lu Mi gradually let go of his unease and slipped into deep slumber.

…………

In a place veiled in faint gray mist, Lu Mi awoke.

He looked around and realized he had not appeared in his sister’s bedroom—he was still in his own room.

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(End of Chapter)