255 Bridge of Communication
Upon learning of the Bliss Societyâs plan, Lumianâs immediate assumption was that Susanna had made a crucial mistake.
What lay sealed within him wasnât just corruption at an angelic level, but an actual angel!
The former lacked self-awareness and reacted on instinct alone. Without undoing the seal and reconnecting it with its true form, it was like a cache of explosives temporarily without a detonator. While there was still a possibility of explosion, Susanna and the other heretics believed they could manage the situation.
By employing the right method, utilizing the isolated environment within the Tree of Shadow, arranging the necessary rituals, and harnessing the evil godâs gaze during the sacrificial ceremony, they could break the seal and offer it as a sacrifice to the Mother Tree of Desire, ensuring the angelic corruption wouldnât pose a threat.
However, the true angel possessed intelligence and a strong will. He wouldnât idly stand by while being sacrificed.
Once the seal was completely lifted, could Susanna, Charlotte, and the others truly handle a genuine angel?
One of them was a Sequence 5 evil spirit that required the Tree of Shadow to possess some godhood, while the other was undoubtedly an Actor with an irrepressible desire to perform. As for a true angel, He had to be at least a Sequence 2 for Lumian to address Him as such. In ancient times, They were nearly on par with deities and were considered subsidiary gods. The difference between them was as vast as that between a saint and an ordinary individual.
Initially, Lumian hesitated to use Termiboros as an escape plan, fearing that the sinister and detestable angel would exploit the opportunity to make him do something seemingly innocent on the surface but secretly aid Him in infiltrating more of His powers beyond the seal.
In that scenario, Lumian, Susanna, and Charlotte would meet their doom. The Tree of Shadow would be destroyed or vanish underground, allowing Termiboros to truly descend upon the world.
Left with no other choice, Lumian cautiously stepped onto the steel rope suspended above a metaphorical abyss, hoping to maintain his balance.
One misstep, and he would fall into irreparable oblivion.
As soon as Lumian finished speaking, Termiborosâs deep and commanding voice resounded in his ears.
It had been a while since Lumian had heard and resisted the angelâs temptation. He could only sense His connection to his own fate through the abnormal occurrences around him or the predetermined events. Yet, the angel hadnât given up and continued to make attempts.
Now, after many days, Lumian once again heard Termiborosâs voice, experiencing the full presence of the angel sealed within him.
Termiborosâs voice carried a tinge of relaxation and satisfaction as it echoed in Lumianâs ears.
âIf they underestimate me, it will only aid my escape from this seal.
âThis environment is perfect, precisely what Iâve been waiting for. Even if you perish later and the seal loses its support, the outside world wonât detect the corresponding changes and wonât be able to prevent me from breaking free of my restraints.
âThey may not outright kill you, but once they attempt to shatter the seal and perform their sacrificial act, I will unleash their predetermined fate. I will abandon your body and disrupt their ritual.â
Termiborosâs words insinuated:
This is the opportunity Iâve long awaited!
Why should I assist you? Just wait patiently for the inevitable outcome!
Lumian fell into silence and leaped away from his original position.
The tree roots split apart, and a massive, damp, pale flower blossomed, one after another, as if the abyss itself had yawned open.
Achoo!
Lumian inhaled the Mysticism Smelling Salts once more, dispelling his drowsiness.
He gazed up at Susanna Mattise in the sky and erupted into wild laughter.
âHaha, youâre the most dim-witted bunch Iâve ever encountered!
âYouâve set up this ritual without a clue. Did your brains empty out because of your faith in the Mother Tree of Desire, or have they been filled with various liquids?
âLet me enlighten you. Whatâs sealed inside me isnât corruption at the angelic level, but a bona fide angel. His name is Termiboros!
âAs soon as that seal is undone, He shall descend upon us and slaughter you all. Heâll shatter this foul, wretched fallen tree and cast it into a cesspool!
âIf I were you, Iâd cease this ritual now and let me go!â
Susanna Mattise, continually shifting positions within the illusory tree canopy, looked down at Lumian and smiled.
âAre you bluffing again? Bluffing seems to be your favorite pastime. I fell for it once; I wonât be fooled again.â
Not far from her on a branch, one of the few windows on the surface of Auberge du Coq Doré, entwined with vines and branches, reflected the figure of the playwright Gabriel.
He frantically penned his name on a piece of paper with a fountain pen, as though a renowned author signing autographs for avid readers.
He had succumbed to the allure of his script, Lightseeker, gaining fame and becoming a household name.
Susanna Mattise continued, âFurthermore, weâve contemplated the possibility that itâs not corruption but an actual angel.
âTherefore, with the divine revelation, weâve altered a crucial segment of the ritual. We will employ you as the primary sacrifice, together with the seal and the angel, to offer them to the mighty Mother Tree of Desire. It wonât hinder the final outcome.
âSacrificial rituals are not like cooking, where ingredients are transformed into dishes. Our task is to present the offerings to the deity. As for what befalls you, along with the seal and the angel within, it is for the great Mother Tree of Desire to decide.
âWhy do you think I refrained from truly attacking you? Such an action might have prematurely shattered the seal!
âDonât even entertain the notion of threatening me with suicide. I shall imbue you with an ardent desire to live.â
It seemed as though Termiboros was akin to a valuable gift that would break free of its own accord. The seal was like a locked box, and Lumian himself was the exquisite wrapping. Susanna and Charlotte had no intention of unwrapping the box and presenting the gift to the Mother Tree of Desire. Instead, their plan was to offer the box and its packaging to the deity, avoiding any significant risks.
Upon hearing Susanna Mattiseâs words, Lumian remained unfazedâneither surprised, nor fearful, nor disappointed.
He tilted his head slightly and directed his gaze towards his left chest, a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth.
âTermiboros, did you hear that? Youâre going to be packaged up and offered to the deity known as the Mother Tree of Desire. You wonât get a chance to escape that seal.
âIâm not sure how the Mother Tree of Desire will deal with you, but I can assure you it wonât be anything pleasant. Are you really content to wait for the final outcome as a mere bystander?â
This time, Termiboros didnât immediately respond to Lumian. After a few seconds, His resonant voice reverberated, âDraw your Fallen Mercury and plunge it into the trunk of the Tree of Shadow. Pierce through its second layer of bark.â
Lumian was taken aback.
âThe fate of the Tree of Shadow can also be exchanged?â
Termiborosâs voice regained its grandeur.
âIt wasnât possible before, but now it is. That tree possesses a certain living characteristic. Itâs akin to a mythical treant that hasnât fully developed its intelligence.â
Without hesitation, Lumian extended his left hand, passing through the crimson-flaming cloak and robe made of flesh and blood. He grasped the pewter-black dirk adorned with sinister patterns.
Bending his body slightly, engulfed in flowing crimson flames, he sprinted toward the trunk of the Tree of Shadow, swift as a cheetah. Along the way, he leaped agilely, evading the cracks and blooming gigantic flowers.
Observing Lumianâs new course of action, Susanna Mattise didnât pay too much heed. She didnât believe he could truly harm the Tree of Shadow or her. Nevertheless, she remained cautious. She intended to kindle his desires and fabricate corresponding illusions, luring him to âuniteâ with a certain flower or crevice in the tree.
Susanna Mattiseâs emerald eyes reflected Lumianâs figure, draped in a robe of flesh and blood and adorned with a flaming cloak. Moisture welled up in her eyes instantly.
She had hoped to witness Lumian abruptly changing his direction and pouncing upon the colossal light-colored flower. Yet, Lumian appeared unaffected as he charged toward the brownish-green trunk.
Beneath the flaming cloak, Lumian clutched the Mysticism Smelling Salts in his right hand, holding it close to his nose.
Tears welled in his eyes, obstructing his sneeze. However, with the aid of the Alms Monkâs endurance, he managed to endure it.
Susanna Mattise was puzzled. With her level and Sequence, even if the other party repeatedly sniffed the Mysticism Smelling Salts, he shouldnât remain completely unaffected.
Under normal circumstances, given the disparity in their strength, she could easily induce Lumian to sneeze while he searched for light-colored giant flowers or brownish-green crevices and continued inhaling the Mysticism Smelling Salts.
Of course, there was a possibility of failure in such situations, but it was unquestionably lower than the probability of success.
But now, Susanna Mattiseâs initial attempt had proven futile. It was as if a skilled dice thrower had surprisingly rolled the lowest number.
Achoo!
Lumian let out a loud sneeze.
Seizing the moment while his mind remained clear and Susanna hadnât exerted her influence a second time, he shielded the metal canister with his right finger and thrust the Fallen Mercury at the brownish-green trunk of the Tree of Shadow, aiming for the needle-sized hole he had created with the burning-white spear.
A resounding clang echoed as Fallen Mercury failed to penetrate any deeper, as if it had struck an impenetrable iron plate.
Achoo!
Lumian, having inhaled a substantial amount of the Mysticism Smelling Salts, sneezed once more, shaking off yet another desire incited by Susanna. Her attempts faltered once again.
Lumianâs right hand, gripping the metal canister, surged with crimson flames.
It absorbed the engulfing cloak of fire that adorned his body, swiftly condensing into a blazing white boxing glove.
In the next instant, Lumian raised his right fist and hammered it against the hilt of Fallen Mercury, resembling a blacksmith forging a weapon.
A thunderous boom erupted as the incandescent white boxing glove detached from Lumianâs hand and detonated at the rear end of Fallen Mercury.
Boom!
Lumianâs left palm, holding the dirk, was charred and mangled in several places. As for Fallen Mercury, propelled by the force of the explosive impact, it managed to break through the first layer of bark and penetrate into the core trunk of the Tree of Shadow.