524 Infighting
The illusory eye between the Demon Warlockâs brows bore a remarkable resemblance to the Eye of Mystery Prying from the Warlock pathway. However, this entity took a unique form, manifesting as a vertical eye rather than the typical manifestation within the eye itself. Lumian had never encountered or heard of such a phenomenon before.
While a Mystery Pryer might experience similar abnormalities as a High-
Sequence Beyonder, it was clear that Burman hadnât reached the Saint level. Otherwise, Lumian would have been the one fleeing, not him. In such a scenario, Lumian might not have been able to escape even if he desired; his only hope would be that the residual aura of the Blood Emperor could momentarily distract Burman, enabling him to âteleportâ away.
Considering the authoritiesâ wanted poster, information from 007, and details gathered from Philip and others, Lumian had long concluded that a Demon Warlock like Burman couldnât be a Sequence 4âhe certainly wasnât audacious enough to hunt a demigod.
Based on the illusory vertical eye and Burmanâs diverse, comprehensive abilities, Lumian sensed a true alignment with the characteristics of a Warlock. However, no Warlockâs Eye of Mystery Prying resembled this. Not only did it grow between the brows and become a vertical eye, marked with pale-white patterns against a nearly black background, but it also possessed the ability to intimidate othersâ Spirit Bodies, revealing a perceived âtruth.â
In that moment, Lumian felt as if he had been stripped of all externalities, leaving only his Spirit Body to resist Burmanâs. Yielding or failing would result in fainting or enslavement.
Fortunately, the âtruthâ on him was beyond the perception of Low- to Mid-
Sequence Beyonders, and Burman was no exception. Before Lumian could activate the Blood Emperorâs residual aura, the Demon Warlock suffered a backlash, nearly incapacitating him.
Moreover, Burmanâs command over the undead and the protection he received after fainting surpassed typical Warlock capabilities. Even if others could achieve similar effects with learned or invented spells, it wouldnât be to that extent, let alone so effortlessly.
Which evil godâs pathway is this? Or has Burman, a Warlock, been corrupted and acquired abnormal traits? That would explain the non-human details on him. After conducting so many resurrection experiments, he wouldnât lack the kind that sacrifices to evil godsâŠ
The illusory vertical eye was undeniably powerful and bizarre. I couldnât withstand it head-on. Were it not for the protection of Mr. Foolâs seal, Termiboros, and the lingering aura of the Blood Emperorâall surpassing my current levelâI might have met my demise at Burmanâs hands. Lumianâs thoughts raced as he quickly made a guess.
Seizing this moment to counteract the impact of the explosion, he retrieved the golden straw hat from his Travelerâs Bag and placed it on his head before disappearing.
Lumian âteleportedâ to 16 Rue Coreas, the entrance of Fidel Guerraâs opulent residence.
While Demon Warlock Burman had the means to escape, the same couldnât be said for this prominent merchant!
If Burman had been in good condition when he fled, Lumian worried that he might return out of professional courtesy and rescue his employer. However, since Burman had been rendered unconscious and taken away by some undead creature, he wouldnât be returning to 16 Rue Coreas. He wouldnât even after waking up either. The more time passed, the more likely Fidel Guerraâs house would become a trap for the Demon Warlock.
Hence, Lumian still had time to ponder Burmanâs Sequence and the non-
human issues he exhibited.
His deliberate delay served a purpose.
If Demon Warlock Burman were to wake up promptly and flee with his employer, Lumianâs calculated delay of a minute or two would ensnare both of them.
Standing at the entrance of 16 Rue Coreas, Lumianâs brow furrowed slightly.
As a Hunter, he detected a faint scent of blood emanating from inside the house.
After a moment of consideration, Lumian gently pushed open the dark-blue door.
It was unlocked.
The door bore splatters of fresh blood that hadnât fully congealed. It seemed as though someone in a panic had sought refuge here, unlocking the door just before being pursued and torn to pieces.
However, there were no remnants of the corpse to be found.
Lumian halted at the doorway, listening intently. The entire house remained eerily silent.
Did Fidel act swiftly, eliminating those in the know and relocating to safety before Burman could strike me down?
In such a scenario, if Burmanâs operation proved successful and he uncovered the reasons for my suspicions and if there were others privy to the information, Fidel could use the pretext of a late-night attack by Black Baronet and other pirates, where he nearly lost his life. Escaping wouldnât have been easy before returning here. Alternatively, he might vanish forever, adopting a new identity to embark on a fresh business venture⊠Lumian pondered this mystery as he navigated past the blood-stained area at the entrance, intending to search the house for clues. His goal was to uncover the exact relationship between Fidel Guerra and Demon Warlock Burman.
Leaving the door slightly ajar, he proceeded towards the staircase, the scent of blood lingering in the air.
Perhaps sensing his approach, heavy footsteps suddenly echoed.
Amidst the rhythmic sounds of footsteps, a figure emerged from the basement, coming into Lumianâs line of sight.
It wasnât human, or rather, it couldnât be deemed human any longer.
Standing three to four meters tall, its body comprised fragments from various human corpses. It possessed a mix of feminine curves and masculine traits, sewn together by linen threads, with blood-stained mucus dripping from the joints.
This âpersonâ featured a relatively intact head, with only one sourceâFidel Guerra, a mixed-blood Intis and Feynapotter.
The merchantâs head didnât align with the body; it was as if a childâs head had been placed on a half-giantâs neck. Dark brown eyes, vacant yet still filled with fear and confusion, stared out.
Dead? Fidel is dead? Did he turn himself into a monster? Lumian pondered. Just as this thought crossed his mind, the stitched corpse lunged forward, dragging three human leg bones that seemed fused together.
A pale-white flame ignited on the colossal âbone sword.â
Lumianâs eyes narrowed, and his body abruptly vanished, reappearing instantly behind the massive stitched corpse.
âHa!â
He opened his mouth and emitted a pale-yellow light.
However, the light struck Fidelâs head, failing to disorient him, let alone render him unconscious.
It became apparent that the undead creature was immune to the Spell of Harrumph!
Almost simultaneously, the rapidly running sutured corpse forcefully pivoted, emitting a muffled sound from its throatâa language Lumian didnât understand or a word carrying magical effects.
Lumianâs soul trembled, as if cowed by evil and death.
He momentarily froze.
The sutured corpse turned around, advancing with purpose. It raised the colossal âbone sword,â burning with pale-white flames, and slashed at Lumianâs head.
Lumian, experienced in such situations, mostly stemming from encounters with high-level entities, found the current threat less severe than the consequences of the Demon Warlockâs illusory vertical eye.
Just in time, Lumian âwoke up,â activating the black mark on his right shoulder.
Amidst the howling wind, the colossal âbone sword,â engulfed in pale-white flames, struck the afterimage left behind.
This time, Lumian materialized close to the stitched corpseâs back, stabbing the Symphony of Hatred retrieved from his Travelerâs Bag into it.
With a pfft, the pitch-black bone flute, seemingly fragile, plunged into the stitched corpseâs flesh.
The flaxen threads burst open, and chunks of flesh and blood peeled off, revealing a dark-red heart emitting pale-white flames.
Lumian extended his left hand, pressing it against the near-fatal wound. The crimson fireball, nearly white, compressed layer by layer as it was pushed in.
Utilizing the reactive force, Lumian abruptly flew backward, dodging the massive âbone swordâ that slashed at him.
Rumble!
In midair, he witnessed crimson, nearly white flames erupt from the sutured corpse, tearing apart the beating heart.
Rumble!
The sutured corpse disintegrated, and the flesh and blood of various humans scattered on the ground.
Bang! Fidelâs head landed in a pile of flesh and blood, the blankness giving way to a pained expression.
âWho turned you into this?â Lumian inquired, glancing out the window, sensing that the explosion would likely draw the attention of the patrolling police.
Fidelâs head opened its mouth, words muffled and filled with hatred.
âItâsâitâs Burman!â
âBurman?â Lumian was taken aback. âWere you infighting?â
Fidelâs head throbbed with pain as his voice trailed off.
âI thought you were testing me. I wanted to observe for a few more days, b-
but he couldnât wait. He w-wanted to kill you tonight. I didnât agree, and he killed everyone in the houseâŠ
âH-heâs a true lunatic!â
At this point, Fidelâs head lolled, his eyes closed, and he fell silent.
Demon Warlock Burmanâs mental state is quite problematic⊠Lumian thought. Is that why he killed his employerâs entire household? If he really wanted to kill me, he could have acted alone⊠Lumian had previously considered whether Fidel would think he was baiting him. For this reason, he deliberately created the illusion that he was baiting Black Baronet to lull Fidel. As for the effect, Lumian didnât care too much. If Fidel didnât take the bait, he would use another method. âFishingâ wasnât the only method in his arsenal.
Unexpectedly, this triggered infighting between Fidel and Burman.
Lumian believed even he couldnât bring himself to do such a thing when his psychological problems were at their worst. That was unless Fidel provoked him, such as pointing out that only a lunatic would believe in resurrection.
Observing the corpse fragments for a while, Lumian noticed no signs of a Beyonder characteristic emerging.
Curse my luck. Burman must have taken it. He shook his head and walked towards the room where the safe might be.