842 Departure

842 Departure

“Omebella…”

Hearing the voice of the Abscessed Hand and the name it shouted, a chill ran up Lumian’s spine, making his hair stand on end and cold sweat break out.

He didn’t know when the Abscessed Hand had regrown bones and flesh from the ashes, returning to its original form, but he was prepared for any abnormalities when it pa.s.sed by him, given the contract stemming from the Inevitability pathway’s powers between them.

Lumian wasn’t overly worried; they were “colleagues” now, and the situation shouldn’t turn dangerous. What he didn’t expect was that the Abscessed Hand would call out “Omebella.”

It was like a horror story!

For a moment, Lumian couldn’t help but wonder if he had already been subtly eroded by the Great Mother’s Child of G.o.d, Omebella, to the extent that he was gradually being replaced.

Standing in the pure darkness, the unseen Abscessed Hand paused for a few seconds, then continued moving forward with the group of iron puppets and undead soldiers, marching mechanically.

Only then did Lumian snap back to reality, pondering the reason for what had just happened.

According to Ludwig, some beings created directly by the Great Mother or granted her boon, lacking necessary intelligence, can sense the trace of Omebella’s bloodline in me and regard me as the Great Mother’s Child of G.o.d…

Hand Bro was first revived and interrupted by divine descent, then controlled by 0-01, becoming its puppet. The feminine transformation trend seemed to have stopped, meaning it hasn’t fully revived and lost its self-awareness, truly lacking necessary intelligence.

Was it directly created by the Great Mother, or did it receive Her boon? The corruption turning it into a woman and pushing it to the limit of beauty likely originated from the Great Mother…

That does seem plausible. Even a single drop of blood can regrow a complete body, evoking a sense of rebirth…

But something’s off. By this logic, the Abscessed Hand should call me an Honorable Child of G.o.d and show some subservience. Heh heh, to directly call the Child of G.o.d’s name is blasphemy!

Lumian grumbled to himself, growing more puzzled.

Also, if Omebella itself is a t.i.tle, the Abscessed Hand should only know I’m a Child of G.o.d, not a specific name. The Great Mother likely has multiple Children ot G.o.d, perhaps continuously created. How could the unwise Hand Bro distinguish who is who and what their name is…

Unless, Omebella is the most special Child of G.o.d, or Hand Bro knew Omebella- the Giant Queen-in its previous life?

Lumian raised his right hand, rubbing his chin, thinking he should quickly report this to Madam Magician after leaving and see if they could uncover the Abscessed Hand’s original ident.i.ty. Perhaps the ancient records in the New City of Silver contained some clues.

After a few seconds, Lumian vanished from the spot, teleporting back near the top of the corpse mountain.

Distracted by the Abscessed Hand incident, he remembered he still had spoils to collect.

That was the Beyonder characteristic of the Demoness of Affliction from Celeste, which could later be used by Jenna.

As for Julie’s characteristic, after the divine descent and filthy blood incident, Lumian had no idea where it was.

In the deathly silent darkness, Lumian stored the shapeless Demoness of Affliction Beyonder characteristic in his Traveler’s Bag.

He even placed two chunks of Celeste’s corpse inside.

Maybe they can be used as supplementary ingredients. If not, I can give them to Ludwig. With me as G.o.dfather away for so long; I should bring him a gift. But will he consider this dirty… Lumian mumbled and teleported to the edge of the wasteland, leaving the area steeped in deathly darkness.

As 0-01’s proxy, he quickly and smoothly exited the underground mausoleum, returning to the entrance area.

Lumian then opened his eyes, seeing the blue sky.

At that moment, the morning sun was bright but not harsh, the air fresh and carrying a slight burnt scent after the rain.

Having spent over ten hours in the eternal darkness of the underground tomb, Lumian felt as if a lifetime had pa.s.sed.

Then, he saw numerous heads, each trailing a bloodstained, pale spine, hovering in the air.

They were countless, thousands, all staring at the entrance of the tomb, at Lumian.

Among them were faces Lumian recognized, regulars at the Carnivore bar.

The aftermath of 0-01’s activation?

There must be thousands, if not tens of thousands…

Is this a form of sacrifice?

Red Priest…

Thoughts flashing through his mind, Lumian raised his hands.

His forehead became hot, with a slight p.r.i.c.kling pain.

Ooo!

A violent gale suddenly blew, scattering the thousands of heads with trailing spines back into the city.

The flying heads seemed to sense Lumian’s will, drifting with the wind, and landed back on their headless bodies.

So this is the special power of a proxy? Unfortunately, it can only be used in Morora… Lumian lowered his hands, feeling regretful, and walked out of the cemetery.

At the cemetery gate, an exile was twisting his own returned head back in place.

Crack!

His head turned from facing his spine back to the front.

Seeing Lumian watching him, he smiled and spoke normally, “Today’s… weather…

is really nice…”

“Yeah,” Lumian responded with a relaxed smile.

He teleported directly to the Carnivore bar, appearing at the door of Julie’s room.

The corpse of Lez was gone from the bed, along with Julie’s collections.

The enforcers have been here… Did they bury Lez’s body in the cemetery?

Lumian mused and vanished from the spot.

This time, he appeared at the door of the Knowledge Cathedral.

He walked inside, up to Heraberg in his plain white robe with bra.s.s threads, and smiling, took out the books he had borrowed from the Traveler’s Bag.

“Archbishop, I’ve finished them all.”

As he spoke, Lumian felt Heraberg looked slightly older.

“Finished them all, really?” Heraberg asked with a smile.

Lumian made a sound and honestly replied, “There are two books I didn’t listen to, but I can’t continue anymore.”

Heraberg nodded approvingly. “If you know, you know. If you don’t know, you don’t know; there’s no need to pretend.”

As he took the books, he said, “There’s indeed no need to read these anymore. I must remind you, these books are infected with a plague, as are the other items in your bag. You need to handle them properly, burn or purify them to prevent the plague from spreading.”

“Celeste’s Grade 1 Sealed Artifact is so potent? It continues to produce a Plague even inside the Traveler’s Bag…” Lumian said sincerely, “I’ll be careful. Thank you, Archbishop. Archbishop, how do I seal an object that spreads a deadly plague?”

Heraberg looked at Lumian for a few seconds, then laughed.

He pointed to another bra.s.s bookshelf. “That one, that one, and that one, take a look and learn.”

Indeed, teachers never give direct answers… Lumian didn’t resist continuing his studies. He pulled out the books and placed them in his Traveler’s Bag.

Then he smiled and asked, “Your Grace, what should I do to leave Morora?”

The white-haired Heraberg said meaningfully, “No one has ever forbidden the residents here from leaving Morora, they simply don’t want to leave.”

Lumian was momentarily stunned, then asked with sudden realization, “Leave the way you came?”

Heraberg showed a look of approval, then pointed to Lumian’s clothes. “Do you want a change of clothes?”

Lumian looked down and saw his clothes, pants, and shoes had become tattered from the previous intense battle.

He was about to take out spare clothes from the Traveler’s Bag but remembered they were also infected with the mystical plague.

Heraberg pointed to a room near the stairs.

“There are clothes you can change into.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Lumian sighed in relief and quickly entered the room, finding several plain white robes with bra.s.s threads hanging inside.

These were the vestments of the Church of Knowledge clergy.

Lumian glanced back thoughtfully at Heraberg, who had resumed reading, and swiftly changed into a robe that fit his size.

He then opened the cathedral’s heavy, ajar wooden door and descended the stone steps layer by layer, deep into the underground.

The pa.s.sageway hadn’t changed since he came; the glowing gems embedded in the walls still provided some illumination.

That indescribable terrifying sound echoed in Lumian’s ears again.

Lumian walked at a steady pace towards the exit. As 0-01’s proxy, the more he walked, the more he felt this might indeed be a long esophagus.

What kind of creature would have such an esophagus? Lumian pondered but couldn’t find an answer.

Alert to this possibility, he neither transformed into a flaming spear nor teleported, instead walking obediently for several hours until he reached the double bronze doors.

He extended his hands and pulled, making the door emit a heavy sound as it slowly opened.

Outside, no one was guarding it.

Lumian sneered silently and stepped out.

He didn’t forget to close the door behind him.

Wearing the plain white robe with bra.s.s threads, he walked back, feeling unseen, unknown gazes upon him.

Reaching the prison where he had been held, Lumian activated the black mark on his right shoulder.

He chose to teleport back to Trier, to the apartment he rented.

His body and spirit were in decent shape, but he felt a strong sense of fatigue, wanting to rest.

Just as his figure materialized, he saw Ludwig enjoying afternoon tea.

Ludwig looked up and froze.

Clang!

The silver fork in the boy’s hand fell onto the dessert plate.