Chapter 306 - 306 Ambivalence

306 Ambivalence

Lumian calmly recounted his encounter with Jenna in the depths of Underground Trier while he was enduring the air of repulsion and disdain.

Franca gave a slightly awkward smile and deftly changed the topic.

“How can you be repulsive and detestable? You didn’t lose control.”

Franca had encountered Beyonders on the Hunter pathway succumbing to a loss of control numerous times, most of them exuding traits that attracted hostility from those around them. This was the principal reason they were swiftly dealt with.

Lumian briefly explained, “I obtained a Sealed Artifact. Its negative effects manifest an hour after I remove it, causing me to exude repulsion and disdain.”

Jenna, curious, interjected, “What happens if you don’t take it off?”

Lumian’s lips curled as he replied, “Then it turns into an alarm, drawing the attention of nearby official Beyonders who’d like to apprehend me.”

“It’s quite the attention-seeker,” Franca remarked with a playful grin.

“It does have a fondness for ‘decency,’” Lumian said, his tone meaningful. Then, he added nonchalantly, “Its abilities lean heavily towards Bribe, with a touch of Distortion.”

Given the likelihood of needing to collaborate with Franca in the future to deal with Padre Guillaume Bénet, Lumian took the initiative to divulge the situation regarding the Decency brooch. However, he refrained from delving into intricate details, especially regarding the strength and range of its powers. After all, mystical items were a Beyonder’s ace in the hole. Exposing them risked a sense of vulnerability. Just as Franca had shared information about the Ring of Punishment while omitting the brass revolver and other items during their earlier operation.

It was a delicate balance—sharing yet withholding the full truth; building trust while maintaining essential precautions.

Franca didn’t press further. She pondered for a moment before saying, “It corresponds to a Sequence 7 Briber and a Sequence 6 Baron of Corruption from the Black Emperor pathway. It seems a Baron of Corruption met his end, melding his Beyonder traits with the objects on him to create the Sealed Artifact. Its abilities aren’t fully revealed.”

“Black Emperor?” Lumian had never heard of this Sequence, nor had Jenna.

“The deity appellation for the Lawyer pathway,” Franca whispered, excitement in her voice. “Rumor has it that Emperor Roselle achieved Black Emperor status before his demise—a true deity!”

For a brief moment, Lumian and Jenna were rendered speechless. Their expressions mirrored their astonishment.

Franca couldn’t accurately fathom Emperor Roselle’s standing in their eyes as genuine Intisians.

Had he—no, had He truly ascended to godhood?

“Rumors, mere rumors,” Franca hastened to add, lest her dependable image be tarnished in Jenna’s eyes.

After a few more exchanges, Jenna opened the wooden box in her right hand, revealing the smaller boxes within.

They contained a small, dark, hive-like heart, a sac exuding dark green liquid, and a slender, smoked tube-like substance.

Franca scrutinized them briefly before giving a nod of approval.

“The heart of the Demon Throat Honeyguide and the poison sac of the Dark Prowler—these are the main ingredients. Yes, the Dark Prowler is a peculiar two-headed snake.

“You’ve also acquired the Demon Throat Honeyguide’s syrinx. You only need blue Jimsonweed juice, fern powder, walnuts, and pure water… I have the blue Jimsonweed juice. The other three supplementary ingredients are easy to come by.”

Fern powder… Lumian recalled the supplemental ingredient for the Provoker potion shared a similarity. It implied being “susceptible to others’ words.”

In that light, Instigator and Provoker bore resemblance. Hunter and Demoness truly were neighboring, interchangeable pathways.

Noticing Jenna’s keenness to buy ferns and walnuts from the right shops and prepare pure water overnight, Franca cautioned, “Hold on a moment. Set yourself straight first. You’ve digested the Assassin potion, and chances of losing control with the Instigator potion are slim these days, but why not aim for the best? Wouldn’t it be wiser to minimize the chance of losing control entirely?”

Lumian scratched his chin and added, “I’m curious what kind of monster an Instigator would end up as after losing control.”

Jenna shot him a glare and settled onto the sofa, shutting her eyes and focusing on her breath.

Lumian sprawled in the armchair next to him, his arms draped over the armrests. He turned to Franca and inquired, “Have you gotten your hands on genuine mummy ashes?”

“Nope,” Franca shook her head, a touch of helplessness in her expression. “I even offered 500 verl d’or for 10 grams, but those guys keep pushing fakes. Worthless bunch. They can’t even tell the real from the fake!”

“Only 500 verl d’or?” Lumian teased. “Aren’t you rolling in it?”

“Normally, 10 grams go for just over 100 verl d’or. 500 is already a small fortune, alright?” Franca snapped back, her frustration evident. “And I’m not exactly swimming in money at the moment.”

Lumian nodded, getting why Franca’s funds were running dry.

Her infiltration of the Iron and Blood Cross Order wasn’t a true success. It could only be considered as aiding Lumian in reaching the goal. So, the reward she received wasn’t the main ingredients for the Demoness of Pleasure, but rather the privilege to buy them at a discount.

“How much more do you need?” Jenna’s eyes popped open, a willingness to help evident in her gaze.

Franca shook her head and replied, “If 500 verl d’or can’t get me the real stuff, neither will a grand. They’ll just think I’m a fool, waiting for me to bid higher.”

She then turned her gaze to Lumian.

“What’s your plan for now?”

Given time, she could likely snag actual mummy ashes in a fortnight or a month. However, Lumian needed her assistance within the next week, pushing her to consider searching for true mummies in the Star Highlands of the Southern Continent.

Lumian caught onto Franca’s unspoken message and mused, “Maybe consider a little arson and digesting the potion to some extent.”

This way, he could unlock the Contractee boon, garnering diverse abilities from different creatures through contracts.

As far as he knew, a freshly minted Contractee could only forge three contracts. Lumian intended to cherry-pick three from the four possible abilities: ones that impacted the Spirit Body or psyche, basic teleportation skills, a moderate level of disguise, and an ability akin to invisibility or shadow blending.

The final choice hinged on the information on creatures from the spirit realm. Maybe the willing creatures suitable for a contract with Lumian didn’t wield matching skills.

Lumian was sure of one thing—all spirit world creatures could traverse the spirit realm—a basic form of teleportation. The variance lay in swiftness. If he struck a pact with White Paper, perhaps he’d manage only ten to twenty meters per jump. Not the optimal choice for traversing to the Southern Continent—exhaustion would likely make him lose control long before he arrived there.

“Arson… What’s your thinking?” Franca sat cross-legged in the recliner.

Lumian recounted the acting principle he had deduced about the Pyromaniac.

Franca shared her insight based on her own experiences. “Upright acting is incitement, and inverted acting is instigation. They can all help you digest the potion. Wouldn’t that be easy? Go down to the docks tomorrow and incite the dockworkers into a strike. The rallying cry will be for better pay.”

Lumian shook his head slowly.

“If I can rally them into a strike and there’s a good chance it’ll get them some benefits or help them achieve their goals, I’ll give it a shot. But if it’s only going to bring disaster upon them, I’m not so keen on it.

“I can’t stand exploiting others without benefiting them and causing harm instead—unless there’s no other way. Then anyone can be sacrificed.

“Once there was this guy who always said that we could only grab more and have enough food if we united. But when we did unite to fight others for food, he took advantage of the chaos and made off with the food.”

“You’ve got quite a bit of experience.” Franca studied Lumian anew, feeling that he wasn’t just as simple as Muggle’s brother.

Jenna had been through similar situations.

Franca sighed and said,”As expected, you’re quite the instigator in the upright sense. I’d be the same if I were you. Though I can put up a tough front, truth be told… haha, I can’t bring myself to do it.”

Lumian regarded her thoughtfully and spoke,

“I find you a bit paradoxical. Sometimes you’re seasoned, well-informed, and have a knack for analyzing things. Other times, you’re foolish, innocent, and naive.”

Lumian had only encountered such a contradictory disposition in one other person—his sister Aurore.

Stirred by Lumian’s string of words, Franca blurted out, “Are you trying to provoke me? How am I foolish or naive?”

At this, she caught Jenna’s disapproving glance.

“Ahem.” Franca cleared her throat and went on, “It’s because I have this core kindness and certain expectations for the world. Even after seeing how harsh life can be, I still cherish life. Sigh, most in my group are like that. Only a few are resilient, brilliant, and agile. They seem to never be daunted by hardships or moral dilemmas.”

The Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society? Why do they have such similarities? Lumian nodded, choosing not to probe further.

With Jenna’s plan to gather the remaining supplemental ingredients the following day to advance as an Instigator, Lumian swiftly departed from Rue des Blouses Blanches and returned to Auberge du Coq Doré.

As he made his way up the stairs, Lumian caught sight of Anthony Reid, the information broker, coming down with a suitcase.

“Moving out?” Lumian inquired.

“That’s right.” Anthony Reid, still donning his military-green camouflage, gave a slight nod.

Lumian chuckled and remarked, “Didn’t you mention some unfinished business in the market district?”

“The lead’s gone cold.” Anthony Reid let out a soft sigh.

Gone cold? Suddenly, Lumian recalled having seen a parliamentary election poster in the other man’s room. He prodded, “Because Hugues Artois is dead?”