Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability

Chapter 484 - 484 Mockery

484 Mockery

Franca wasn’t surprised at all, even though she wondered why so many things were happening in this damn place.

This was Fourth Epoch Trier. Even if it wasn’t a land of a fallen god, it wouldn’t lack abnormalities!

Lumian and the others cautiously emerged from their concealment, peering from different vantage points toward the source of the chimes.

The location wasn’t distant, yet the fog in that direction seemed unusually dense. The structures loomed faintly, as though just a fragment of history had materialized.

Within the fog’s depths, a contraption reminiscent of a steam locomotive glided by without a fuss. It sported only two carriages, lacking a smokestack. Peculiar frames extended from the top, linking it to something suspended in midair.

Ding ding ding. The train ventured into a zone of even thicker fog, disappearing from view.

Although Franca and her companions couldn’t discern the details clearly, an unexplained dread seized them, akin to standing on the precipice or treading on blades piercing their skin.

Before they could contemplate the ramifications of the fog’s metamorphosis and the arrival of these peculiar objects, their surroundings plunged into a profound darkness. Dusk gave way, and night loomed.

A dense fog cloaked the area.

Lumian, sensing an unsettling disturbance, yearned to evade it, but the abnormal fog, tainted with a dark hue, obstructed any attempt to “teleport” to an unaffected area. Beyond the fog, the wilderness they came from eluded his senses.

The cold fog permeated their skin, prompting involuntary shivers from Franca and Jenna.

Almost simultaneously, the narrow street came alive with the flickering of candle flames and oil lamps. Laughter, cries, and voices erupted, transforming the once-silent surroundings.

Fourth Epoch Trier burst into vibrant life, resonating with clamor and the pulsations of existence.

Anthony, without conscious thought, surveyed the diverse houses and narrow streets, catching sight of an asymmetrical, pitch-black building. Candlesticks dangled from above, casting light upon the figure standing at the window.

The figure donned a black bonnet, with one side sunken and the other protruding. Dark clothes adorned him, with buttons haphazardly fastened, and a smooth wound diagonally sliced his body from shoulder to waist.

Evidently caused by a sharp broadsword.

In that moment, the man’s diagonally cleaved body resembled a child’s stacked building blocks, not properly assembled.

He nonchalantly nibbled at a meat pie, chewed morsels falling from the wound to the ground, yet he remained oblivious.

Additional figures emerged in other habitable houses.

Some appeared like melted candles that had solidified once more, their flesh viscous and indistinct. Others had pale-white skin, and greasy white feathers sprouted from their pores, oozing yellowish pus. Some had tiny holes in their bodies, with black insects flying in and out. There were those reduced to white skeletons, with only a mismatched human-skinned mask covering their faces. Some had degenerated into black shadows, as if burned…

On the narrow street, a yellow, blue, and red sphere, about half the height of an adult human, rolled forward. An inverted clown, dressed in exaggerated clothes, stood atop it.

The clown’s ears were unlike those of a human, dog-like and slightly pointed. Dark gray hair covered his red-yellow-painted face.

These are the long-dead citizens of Fourth Epoch Trier? Lumian’s eyelids twitched.

He, Franca, and the others also observed the bloodstained faces and cold expressions of these figures.

“Very similar, very similar to those Mirror People…” Franca muttered to herself before exclaiming in horror, “Could the gray fog’s transformation have transported us to the Fourth Epoch Trier in the mirror? The citizens of Fourth Epoch Trier in reality are dead, but the ones in the mirror are still alive?”

Before she could finish, Lumian and Anthony’s gazes turned toward her and Jenna.

“Could it be that it’s the problem with those two things again?” Franca’s scalp tingled as she said, “Did they cause us to be devoured by the mirror’s Fourth Epoch Trier after the gray fog transformed?”

“That’s not it. I believe it’s a universal abnormality. Apart from a few special individuals who enter this place, they all arrive in the mirror ruins after being enveloped by the expanding gray fog.” Lumian observed the narrow street brimming with vitality, pondering for a moment. “The most likely possibility is that the two figurines triggered Fourth Epoch Trier, causing changes like the gray fog’s expansion.”

Jenna fell silent for a moment before frowning.

“But we’ve been here for a while. Why did something only happen now? We didn’t do anything just now…”

“That’s right!” Franca suddenly realized. “Those Hostel residents must have triggered something while wandering around after their entry!”

As soon as Franca finished speaking, a hoarse and terrified shout echoed nearby.

“Help!

“Save me!”

Lumian and his companions turned their attention toward the voice and witnessed a man in a black formal suit, his hair neatly combed like a prominent figure’s secretary, sprinting down the narrow street.

His face was marred by abscesses, oozing mucus. Occasionally, he turned his head 180 degrees, his eyes filled with fear as if a formless and terrifying entity pursued him.

“Save me!”

Amidst his cries, the man’s body suddenly froze, and he involuntarily retreated. His retreat accelerated until he lifted off.

“Ah!”

Amidst intense screams, he plunged into the dense gray fog and the shadowy buildings.

In the next moment, the voice abruptly ceased, and silence enveloped that area.

Lumian and the others’ hearts pounded with a strong sense of danger.

Despite the man in the black suit not being an ordinary person, suspected to be the bestowed of an evil god from the Order of All Extinction or the Sick Church, and having been corrupted by this place to a certain extent, allowing him to turn his head 180o, Lumian, Anthony, and their companions still felt the terror lurking in the depths of the gray fog.

It was as if they could already envision themselves being “dragged” into the gray fog and vanishing.

However, at that moment, they had no idea what to do or how to hide. Dense black gray fog surrounded the suspected mirror ruins, and unknown dangers loomed in the shadows, quietly approaching.

At that moment, Termiboros’s majestic voice resonated in Lumian’s ears:

“Keep running until you reach that pillar. Don’t stop on the way. Don’t turn back. Don’t teleport. Don’t pull your companions.”

Isn’t… isn’t that the direction where the monster was “devoured”? If we take the initiative to approach, wouldn’t we be sending ourselves as food to its doorstep? Lumian grappled with uncertainty, unsure if Termiboros had sensed real danger and planned to intervene or if He was exploiting the opportunity to advance His own agenda.

“You can choose not to believe it,” Termiboros’s deep voice added.

Despite his suspicions, Lumian’s gaze remained fixed on the spot where the evil god bestowed’s figure had been “devoured.”

Deep within the gray fog, amidst looming, collapsed, and towering buildings, a hazy black pillar stretched into the sky.

Suddenly, Lumian recalled something.

At the entrance of the fourth level of the catacombs—Krismona Night Pillar.

As for Krismona, she was a high-ranking Demoness who had perished during the War of the Four Emperors in Fourth Epoch Trier!

She was even a child of God, a true child of the Primordial Demoness… This place is suspected to be the mirror’s Fourth Epoch Trier… Lumian surveyed the surroundings and saw that the situation elsewhere was similar. He gritted his teeth and said, “Let’s move forward! To the black pillar!”

The sense of danger intensified, pushing Lumian to make a decisive gamble.

Move forward? Franca, Jenna, and Anthony were brimming with questions about Lumian’s choice.

Everyone had witnessed the chilling fate of the man in the formal suit!

Lumian stood tall and declared in a commanding voice, “Jenna, carry the spoils of war. Don’t stop, don’t turn around, and don’t pull any of our companions!”

Upon finishing his sentence, he darted out of his hiding spot.

Given the specificity of Lumian’s instructions, Franca cast a glance at him and chose to trust his judgment.

Jenna tightened her grip on the lucky gold coin, hoisted the cloak containing the spoils of war, and followed suit. Anthony, having exacted his revenge, harbored no regrets or obsessions. Lumian had proven his correctness multiple times, so he didn’t question him and trailed closely.

Thud! Thud! Thud! The quartet sprinted down the narrow street, passing by the inverted clown, who rolled forward on the ball at a deliberate pace. They plunged into the depths of the gray fog, heading towards the black pillar.

…

In a corner of Fourth Epoch Trier, in front of a black iron-like house adorned with a red pattern, a wilderness overgrown with weeds had been condensed to the size of an ordinary square.

Within a dark-red open carriage in the wilderness, Lady Moon, draped in a loose white robe and a light-colored veil, queried Madame Pualis, who stood beside her, “What’s wrong?”

Madame Pualis, dressed in black with her head covered by her right hand, replied, “I can hear my child crying again…”

Lady Moon nodded gently and offered reassurance, “That’s unavoidable. Rest here and catch up when you’ve recovered.”

“Are you sure you can handle it alone?” Madame Pualis’s facial muscles twitched and distorted intermittently.

Lady Moon smiled and responded, “My child left me a gift. Don’t worry.”

She didn’t consider Madame Night to be of much help in this matter. Madame Night could enter because she needed to stay at the Sacred Heart Cloister to draw attention and couldn’t remain in the Hostel.

“Alright,” Madame Pualis said regretfully.

After Lady Moon’s carriage and the wilderness departed, Madame Night’s expression quickly returned to normal.

Lady Moon’s carriage, pulled by two Demon-like creatures, advanced for a while before the gray fog thickened and expanded.

Her eyes narrowed as a blood-stained umbilical cord materialized in her hand.

The umbilical cord emitted a brilliant golden sunlight, warding off all corrosion and influence.

Thus, Lady Moon successfully reached the periphery of the land of a fallen god. The gray fog here stood as dense as a wall.

Attempting to approach, she found herself blocked, akin to an ordinary person encountering an impenetrable barrier.

Lady Moon felt a compelling force but couldn’t proceed any further.

She whispered in surprise and confusion, “How could this be…”

As she pondered to herself, Lady Moon surveyed her surroundings.

Suddenly, her gaze froze.

On the surface of a nearby half-collapsed palace-like structure, a flamboyant red color seized the wall, outlined in a bloody state: “Didn’t anyone tell you that there’s another seal here?”