Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability
-
chapter-384
Not good! Lumian was both a Hunter and a Dancer, and his mastery over his body was amazing. Any unfamiliar or abnormal situation immediately triggered his instincts, alerting him to potential danger.
But in that critical moment, his thoughts seemed to slow down, shrouded in a dense fog. Each idea froze, demanding tremendous effort to clear.
I've been attacked…
Loki is really… here…
Is this… the performance… of a Marionettist's abilities?As it nears the end… I won't be able… to think… Will I… become his… marionette?
My sense of danger… is clouded…
Dammit… Termi… boros, it's impossible… that you didn't notice… the changes in my fate… You didn't… warn me…
Did He intentionally tell me… that Loki… nearly tracked me… to make me do it again?
Me becoming Loki's… puppet… aids… Him in escaping… the seal?
I can't just… wait like this… I must resist with all my might…
Where is… Loki…?In these fragmented thoughts, Lumian strained to move. His hand found its way into his pocket, and he surveyed his surroundings with stiffness.
Previously, he and Franca had discussed the limitations of the Marionettist's power. They agreed that it must have a certain range or require proximity. Otherwise, it would exceed the capabilities of a Sequence 5 and only be within the realm of a saint who had transcended into godhood. Those from different pathways that Franca knew couldn't resist it at all.
The duo believed that this ability either required a certain medium or could only be activated at a close distance. Just like the Ring of Punishment's Psychic Piercing, it could only be effective if the distance between them was reduced to five meters.
Lumian suspected Loki was hiding nearby in the crowd, perhaps no more than ten meters away.
What greeted his eyes were street vendors and passersby. Some of their faces were familiar, while others were unfamiliar. They were no different from usual.
In his haste, Lumian couldn't discern Loki among them. Adding to the challenge, Loki was a Faceless, skilled in transformation and disguise.
As Lumian continued his search for Loki, a crimson flame manifested in his left palm.
His motives were twofold: first, to test his ability to resist a Marionettist's control and invasion by inflicting pain upon himself, and second, to set a question and observe how Loki would respond. By studying Loki's reactions, he hoped to glean insights into Loki's exact whereabouts and weaknesses in his marionette-making abilities.
But just as the searing pain coursed through his mind, Lumian heard a distinct snap.
Instantly, the crimson flame in his palm dissipated into a harmless stream of light, unable to form anything explosive.
Lumian spun around, trying to identify the source of the snapping of fingers.
However, his joints had become encased in a sticky "glue," and his movements grew increasingly rigid and sluggish.
This delay caused him to turn a second slower than he intended. Everyone within his line of sight appeared normal, and he couldn't pinpoint who had snapped their fingers.
Marionettist… is indeed capable… of Flame Controlling…
Pain… doesn't… help much… in the slowdown of my thoughts… and stiffening of my body… It only… marginally… increased… my reaction speed…
I can't… waste time… on such matters… The most important thing… now… is to find… Loki. Otherwise… whether I use… the Spell of Harrumph… summon Mr. K… or wait for… Franca to save me… wouldn't… significantly change… the situation…
I wonder… if spirit world traversal… can be used… If… the next… two or three attempts… fail… I'll… give it a try… and see if I can teleport out… of a Marionettist's… ability range…
Lumian's thoughts grew increasingly sluggish, but they weren't to the point where he couldn't think, react, or dodge any attack.
Soon, with his rich combat experience, he came up with an idea.
From the… current situation… a Marionettist… indeed needs… to be at close range… to gradually transform… their target… into a marionette…
In that… case… I'll make sure… there's no one… or animals… within a ten-meter… radius!
Whoever… lingers… within the Inferno Hell… shall be Loki!
Once Lumian understood the situation, he immediately opened his mouth and shouted, "There… is… a… fire!"
Crimson flames surged from Lumian's body as he finished his staccato sentence.
With his feet as the center, they spread out, igniting the fruit peels and litter on the ground.
Alerted by Lumian's warning, nearby street vendors and pedestrians swiftly gathered their belongings and fled toward the ends of Rue Anarchie upon seeing the rising flames.
Seeing their hasty retreat, Lumian's sluggish smile emerged.
Yes, you can use Flame Controlling, but I'm not going to do any delicate maneuvers now. My only move is to constantly ignite the surrounding things and increase the variety of fire sources!
Moreover, this will inevitably draw the attention of official Beyonders!
Crimson flames expanded in all directions, resembling a vibrant ocean gradually consuming the earth.
Despite his faltering gaze, Lumian still managed to catch a glimpse of a figure flickering within the flames—a figure with black hair, blue eyes, and an ordinary face, blending in with the crowd of clerks on the road.
…
After bidding Lumian farewell, Franca made her way toward Rue des Blouses Blanches.
However, her journey took an unexpected turn as she suddenly veered into an alley, disappearing into the shadows.
This Demoness of Pleasure began to stealthily make her way toward Rue Anarchie.
This was her prior agreement with Lumian.
If their initial plan of barging into Salle de Bal Unique failed to provoke the Beyonders in the Alone Bar or have them reveal themselves, they had a backup plan—a kind of "fishing" expedition after leaving Rue Ancienne to see if they could "encounter" their target.
Franca's earlier inquiry about Lumian's intention to engage in counter-tracking was essentially confirming if they should stick to their original strategy. Lumian's response had been affirmative.
As Franca approached Rue Anarchie, she retrieved a mirror from the shadows.
This mirror was a Mirror Substitution, crafted using Lumian's blood and hair!
While it couldn't be used as a substitute for death or injury at this distance, it had a profound mystical connection to the original body. It could be employed to monitor Lumian's general condition.
In simple terms, if the mirror were to suddenly shatter, it would signal that Lumian had met his demise. If it displayed a few deep cracks, it would indicate that Lumian had suffered severe injuries.
Likewise, Franca had placed a Mirror Substitution on Lumian. This precaution was taken because they were uncertain whom Loki might target after their separation. They had no choice but to conceal themselves in the shadows and continue their activities. Through Mirror Substitution, they could keep tabs on each other's well-being and provide timely assistance.
This method was more reliable than attempting to discern changes in luck, as Loki possessed formidable anti-divination abilities and could manipulate fate after making decisions.
Franca, deep in her stealthy advancement, was suddenly alerted as the mirror in her hand grew icy cold.
Utilizing her Dark Vision, she pierced through the shadows and witnessed the mirror's transformation into a lifeless gray, as if it had rusted or been submerged in the depths of an icy lake.
Ciel is under attack? Franca's heart tightened as she quickened her pace.
Upon reaching Rue Anarchie, she was met with the sight of spreading flames. Within the crimson inferno, a figure flickered intermittently. Occasionally, it opened its mouth, producing a sharp bang.
It sounded like a real gunshot, causing vendors and pedestrians to scatter in fear, believing a violent gunfight between the mobs was unfolding.
Lumian, on the other hand, struggled to evade the attacks, but he failed twice. The Air Bullets grazed his body, leaving noticeable wounds.
However, it was clear that the figure didn't truly intend to harm him. It seemed more concerned about the potential complications that injuries might cause before a specific juncture.
Relieved that Lumian was relatively unscathed, Franca retreated into the shadows and approached the battlefield cautiously. As she drew nearer, she retrieved a mirror and,
disengaging from the shadows, directed the mirror toward the clusters of flames. Her right hand became enshrouded in zero-temperature black flames.
When the figure appeared in the mirror's reflection, Franca swiftly ran her right hand across the mirror's surface.
Silently, the figure burst into pitch-black flames.
He swiftly thinned and shrank, transforming into an intricately cut paper figurine.
Among the crowd, roughly ten to twenty meters away, an unusually ordinary-looking man clad in a black suit emerged.
Lumian's thoughts snapped back to full speed, and his body shook off the stiffness that had hindered him.
In a flash, he vanished from his previous position and reappeared just seven meters away from the suspected Loki.
Lumian then exclaimed, "Hmph!"
A brilliant beam of white light shot forth from his nostrils, targeting the ordinary-looking man with black hair and blue eyes.
Simultaneously, Franca acted in perfect coordination. She conjured a transparent ice spear and hurled it toward their target.
Upon piercing the ground, white frost rapidly spread from the impact, chilling those nearby and causing their bodies to stiffen.
At that very moment, a thin-faced passerby with brown hair and brown eyes interposed himself between Lumian and the suspected Loki, intercepting the white beam created by Lumian.
He appeared unharmed, his blank eyes gazing upwards as he began to sing an aria.
"Oh, my Sun!"
In an instant, it was as if a blinding sun had risen within the minds of Lumian, Franca, and others nearby, rendering their thoughts sluggish.
Instinctively, the duo moved to evade, with one either retreating into the shadows while encasing herself in a crystalline and resilient frost or rolling to the side of the road and using the Niese Face to alter his appearance.
When the intense sunlight eventually receded, they found that both the man suspected to be Loki and the "passerby" singing the aria had vanished into thin air.
Fearful glances from vendors and passersby were directed their way. Those closest to the spectacle had shut their eyes tightly, tears streaming down their faces.