Chapter 321 - 321 Compensation

321 Compensation

In the dim corridor, despite the unchanging temperature, an icy gust swept through, sending shivers down the spine.

His initial urge was to reach into his pocket and grasp Mr. K’s finger. Yet, he held back, mindful of the unfamiliar territory that was the Southern Continent. Mr. K might not sense the use of his finger, so Lumian suppressed his instinct.

Franca reacted swiftly too. A small mirror materialized in her palm. Jenna, less experienced, didn’t grasp the scene’s significance, but her instincts told her it wasn’t a positive development.

It was akin to the spooky tales told in bar dance halls to frighten young girls!

Sallent, avoiding the dim oil lamp’s gaze, briskly moved past Jenna and Franca, making a beeline for the pitch-black wooden door to the basement. He paid Lumian no attention.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Sounds of impact echoed from the tombs on either side. It wasn’t clear if sarcophagus lids had been struck or heavy stone doors pounded.

Sallent’s expression shifted, and he bolted out.

In the silent basement, the echoes of the pounding lingered. Lumian and the others hurried after the mystic potion store owner, easily overtaking him.

At that very moment, the pitch-black wooden door creaked shut abruptly.

Seeing this, Franca sprinted forward and flung the mirror out the door.

A resonant crack marked the mirror’s collision with the wooden door, fragments scattering across the floor.

Lumian and Franca came to a halt simultaneously, their attention on Sallent. Jenna, still in motion, comprehended and made the same choice.

In the eerily dim corridor, Sallent, decked in a blue coat with gold accents, stood frozen, his pale face tinged with a sickly green hue.

The pounding from the tombs persisted, its reverberations shaking everyone present to the core.

Sallent trembled visibly, muttering to himself, “We’re done for. We’re all finished…”

Franca inquired swiftly yet composedly, “What’s going on?”

Only by grasping the core issue could she devise a swift and effective strategy!

Seemingly detached from his own senses, Sallent didn’t answer. He half-mumbled, “We’re done for. We’re all finished…”

Before he could complete his thought, the entire basement quivered.

The dark-green flames that had shrunk to the size of rice grains flickered noticeably in the same direction.

“It’s awake! It’s awake!”

Sallent remained unresponsive, repeating his panicked cry, “It’s awake! It’s awake!”

Seeing that the mystic potion store owner was clearly in a state of extreme horror and not in his right mind, Franca decisively abandoned her attempts to ask him for information and took out a mirror.

Her plan was to use Magic Mirror Divination to swiftly assess the current situation.

Even if the divination’s response wasn’t crystal clear and required interpretation, it was still better than being completely clueless!

In a matter of moments, Franca completed the incantation and witnessed an aqueous light emanating from the mirror.

Just as she was preparing to gather her thoughts and formulate appropriate questions to obtain corresponding answers, Lumian, who had been standing silently beside her, suddenly spoke up. “Did it work?”

“It did. I can perform the divination,” Franca cooperatively responded, although she was puzzled by Lumian’s actions.

Lumian immediately broke into a grin.

“No need for questions.”

Uh… Franca was caught off guard before she grasped Lumian’s intention.

Just then, the basement shook once more. Sallent, the mystic potion store owner, was so overcome with fear that his voice turned high-pitched.

“It’s here! It’s here!

“We’re going to die!”

In the next heartbeat, Lumian seized his shoulder.

Simultaneously, Lumian firmly held Jenna’s arm with his other hand, while Franca hooked her arm around his shoulder like a bro.

An eerie light shimmered through the crevices of their clothing, and the four of them materialized outside the basement, standing before the pitch-black wooden door adorned with intricate and enigmatic symbols.

“It’s here! It’s here!

“We’re going to die!”

Sallent’s cries of despair still echoed in the air.

Lumian cast an appraising glance at the mystic potion store owner, pondering whether to utilize the Niese Face to transform into a mummy and give him a scare.

Therapeutic provocation had its merits too!

However, considering his waning spirituality and the prudence of revealing too many abilities to a stranger, Lumian ultimately shelved the prank idea.

Jenna swung her right palm, delivering a resounding slap to Sallent’s face, leaving him bewildered. He gazed at the woman before him, utterly perplexed.

Franca and Lumian exchanged speechless glances, unsure how to react to this unexpected turn of events.

As the pitch-black door and the basement walls swayed gently, the cacophony outside abruptly subsided.

Jenna felt the weight of their gazes and mumbled, “Isn’t this how they wake them up? That’s how they would bring back my neighbor when she lost control of her emotions.”

It wasn’t madness. In the factory district, people had their own practical remedies. More often than not, they did the trick, though occasionally they proved ineffective.

Of course, if he were part of her family, she wouldn’t dare try it. She’d seek professional assistance instead.

Franca snapped out of her reverie and commended sincerely, “Well done.”

Several moments elapsed, and Sallent’s gaze cleared.

Instinctively, he scanned their surroundings and exclaimed in surprise, “We’re outside? When did we get out?”

“When you were screaming ‘we’re going to die,’ ‘we’re going to die,’” Lumian retorted with an annoying tone.

He then raised an eyebrow and inquired with a deep intonation, “Who were you saying was about to wake up?”

Sallent’s expression shifted multiple times before he stammered, “A genuine ancient mummy. It slumbers deep within the tomb and occasionally stirs. It only woke up a few days ago. Why did it wake up so quickly…”

Normally, there was a rough timeframe for how long the mummy remained “awake.” According to Sallent’s experience, it would be at least another month before it awoke again. That was why he dared to bring Lumian and the others into the basement.

Unexpectedly, an accident occurred!

What caused the ancient mummy to awaken prematurely? Lumian directed a thoughtful gaze at Franca, as if silently asking her if she wished to consider obtaining the genuine ancient mummy.

Franca comprehended his inquiry and shook her head, indicating that it wasn’t necessary.

The mummy’s ashes were merely supplementary ingredients. The ones formed the year before were still usable. There was no need to risk dealing with what seemed to be a perilous entity.

Lumian withdrew his gaze and pushed through the headache gnawing at his temples. He turned to Sallent and grinned.

“I don’t care if it’s last year’s mummy or an ancient one awakening. There are two things I know for sure.

“First, I saved your life. Second, we were scared out of our wits and nearly met our end down there.

“So, you owe me a thank-you present and compensation for the mental strain. How much do you think is fair? Keep in mind, I only want gold.”

With the memory of owing the Armored Shadow and Mr. Fool a total of 100,000 verl d’or in gold, Lumian was keen on seizing every opportunity to amass funds.

As the tumult behind the pitch-black wooden door gradually settled, Sallent heaved a sigh of relief and responded, “How about 1,000 verl d’or? That’s all the gold I have on hand.”

His heart ached at the thought of parting with the money, but he acknowledged Lumian’s point. Without their intervention, he’d have met his end in that basement, becoming fodder for the mummy.

Moreover, the group had demonstrated significant prowess. Rejecting their request outright seemed like a risky proposition.

“Agreed.” Lumian didn’t push for more or attempt to haggle.

As the quartet made their way toward the stairs leading to the warehouse, Franca lowered her left hand and surreptitiously let something slip into the shadowy corner.

After obtaining 1,000 verl d’or in gold coins, gold nuggets, and jewelry, Lumian, Franca, and Jenna exited the Highland Mystic Potion Shop.

Franca glanced back at the shop and let out a wry chuckle. “Tsk, all this trouble, and we ended up with a mummy’s hand and an additional 500 verl d’or.”

Without waiting for Lumian’s response, she queried with a grin, “Are you running short on funds again? You used to save people without expecting payment. They could give it or not.”

“Have you switched to the Spectator’s Pathway?” Lumian teased, nodding in agreement. “The special contract I mentioned involves sacrificing 100,000 verl d’or worth of gold within a set timeframe after the pact is made.”

100,000 verl d’or? Jenna’s understanding of monetary matters had undergone quite a transformation since entering the world of mysticism.

Based on what she knew, even someone like Ciel didn’t possess as much liquid wealth as her. Yet, he dared to accumulate a debt of 100,000 verl d’or just for a contract granting access to those special abilities.

Franca clicked her tongue and inquired, “Why didn’t you ‘teleport’ us right to the door from the start? The basement door wasn’t closed then, so no mishaps would have occurred.”

“Don’t you think it’s more dramatic to do it at the last moment?” Lumian retorted with a question.

Naturally, the actual reason was that he had recently gained the ability to traverse the spirit world and hadn’t ingrained a reflex to use it. When the pitch-black wooden door in the basement shut, he had been hesitant to attempt teleporting for fear of it failing.

Later, Franca successfully completed her Magic Mirror Divination. Through it, Lumian confirmed his ability to remain connected to the outside world within the seal, which allowed him to make the definitive teleportation.

Amid Franca and Jenna’s baffled expressions, Lumian massaged his aching head and announced, “Let’s find an inn. I need to rest and restore my spirituality.”

“Okay.” Franca wasn’t in a hurry to secure an inn. Instead, she turned into an empty alley and produced an ornate makeup mirror.

“Why are you using divination?” Jenna queried inquisitively.

Franca’s lips curled into a smile.

“I’m using it to divine the reflection in my other mirror.”

Seeing Jenna’s perplexity, she elucidated, “I left a small mirror that looks like a shard outside that basement.”

With that, Franca caressed the mirror and chanted an incantation.

Before long, the mirror projected an image: Sallent, the mystic potion store proprietor, stood before the pitch-black wooden door, his posture hunched as he cried out, “Only death endures forever!”