Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability

Batna had to admit that every head was no less formidable than himself.

After a brief pause, Batna sensed something amiss and blurted out, “Are you sure you can handle Baronet Black and the two or three helpers he might have?”

Lumian’s lips curled into a smile.

“Every adventurer who comes to sea dreams of following in Gehrman Sparrow’s great footsteps.”

It wasn’t the first time he said this, but the tone was different. This time, Batna detected a calm and serious demeanor.

Is he for real?

Is he sly and cunning or just plain reckless?

At that moment, Batna had to reconsider his understanding of Louis Berry.

There was a method to his madness, a trap meticulously laid out, but the aspirations and strategies were impractical. What struck Batna most was that Louis knew it was unrealistic, yet he calmly and persistently pressed on to realize his grand dream.

How to describe this guy? Batna couldn’t find the right words.

At that moment, Lumian had already reached the open-air market stalls. He dropped 5 verl d’or on fried banana slices, scones, roasted meat, roasted oysters, grilled fish, roasted shrimp, and sugarcane.

“You’re still hungry?” Batna asked, surprised.

During their drinking session, they had already ordered fries, fish, meatloaf, and more.

Lumian smiled and replied, “Getting supper for my godson.”

Godson? At your age? Batna couldn’t quite fathom this guy with a Savoie Province accent.

Maybe it’s a trend in the mountainous province for young men to become godfathers?

After Lumian picked up the brown paper bags, Batna exhaled and remarked, “Your plan might not be effective. Adventurers boasting about their exploits are a dime a dozen. They might not consider your declaration a joke to spread it to others. It’s too common.”

Lumian smiled and said, “No, they’ll spread it like wildfire. In a few days, the entire Port Farim will know that a new adventurer has taken a commission to hunt down Baronet Black.”

“How’s that possible? You can’t control their mouths,” Batna retorted subconsciously.

Suddenly, he was taken aback.

“You can’t really… control their thoughts, can you…”

Lumian scoffed and tapped his head with the paper bags.

“Use your brain and think carefully.

“They won’t want to spread it. Someone will help me spread it.”

Batna had an epiphany.

“You want to secretly hire a group of people to help you publicize this matter…”

He paused for a few seconds before continuing, “There’s no need for you to hire them. The merchant, Fidel, will help you achieve your goal once he finds out about your act. He has ample resources. But what if he doesn’t know…”

“I’ll pay him a visit tomorrow,” Lumian replied calmly.

It’s meticulous and feasible. It’s like iron chains, all interconnected… The more Batna thought about it, the more he realized that every detail of this plan had been considered, but overall, it exuded a sense of madness.
After a while, he instinctively assessed, “If Baronet Black leaves the Fog Sea, it might take months for him to hear the news. If he happens to be in Port Farim, perhaps he’ll find out in two or three days.”

Port Farim had a population of just over 100,000, including tourists. It might not even be comparable to a quartier in Trier. More people were scattered across Saint Tick Island’s plantations and the Andatna Volcano Mines.

“I hope he’s in Port Farim,” Lumian said with a satisfied expression as he strolled through the night.

Batna fell silent, unsure of what to say.

Returning to the Flying Bird, Lumian entered Room 5 of the first-class cabin and found Ludwig enjoying the supper he had left for him. He placed the brown paper bags on the dining table.

The aroma of fried ingredients and barbecue filled the air.

Ludwig looked up in surprise before quickly devouring the food Lumian had brought back.

Lumian settled into a nearby recliner, rocking gently.

Finally, Ludwig let out a contented sigh and said, “You get tired of always eating cheese, bread, cakes, and crackers for supper.”

A person who can even eat live rats raw doesn’t have the right to say that… Lumian criticized and smiled.

“This proves that I haven’t forgotten you, my godson.

“By the way, how long do you plan to follow me? I’ve already helped you escape the Church of Knowledge.”

Ludwig pondered seriously.

“I’ll follow you until I can earn my own living. N-now, I’m still a child!”

That’s true. If this fellow doesn’t have the money to buy food, something terrifying might happen… Also, before I go to the City of Exiles, the Church of Knowledge probably won’t allow Ludwig to leave me… Lumian laughed self-

deprecatingly.

“I, an unmarried underage man, have to support a child like you for a long time.”

Ludwig muttered under his breath, “Not necessarily very long…”

Does that mean you can recover to the point of supporting yourself within this year or next? Lumian pretended not to hear Ludwig’s muttering and gestured towards the servants’ quarters with his chin.

“Has that guy been acting okay?”

Ludwig, acting as a spy, asked in confusion, “For Intisians, is flirting with women on the deck and in the bar under the pretext of attending to patients considered okay?”

“Yes.” Lumian sighed helplessly.

You Intisians.

…

The next afternoon, amid rumors of the port closure possibly ending the following morning, Lumian disembarked from the Flying Bird and headed straight to Rue Coreas in Quartier des Black Pearls to pay an early visit to the prominent merchant, Fidel Guerra.

The previous evening, Lumian had received a letter from Franca, delivered by Jenna’s Rabbit Chasel. The explosion in Port Farim matched Philip’s intel, but there were more details.

By the time official Beyonders reached the scene, Demon Warlock Burman had already vanished.

Facing an undead monster made of limbs and corpse fragments, capable of awakening the deceased in Port Farim, official Beyonders had their hands full.

The hospital suffered casualties—patients fell victim to the monstrous horror…

In Fidel Guerra’s study, Lumian met the man—a blend of Intis and Feynapotter blood, smoking a cigar with a grin.

“Did you come here because of the smell? I just received the Colorful Bearded Horned Lizard venom.”

Just obtained? I’m afraid it’s been here all along. Considering my earnest efforts to draw out Baronet Black and fulfill your request, you’re not suggesting you haven’t secured the goods… Lumian ventured a guess, a smile playing on his lips.

“Seems luck’s smiling upon me. How much?”

“3,800 verl d’or. My cut isn’t much,” Fidel replied sincerely.

Lumian didn’t negotiate. He produced a stack of banknotes and tallied out 3,800 verl d’or.

Observing this, Fidel signaled an attendant and gave instructions.

Soon after, the attendant returned, carrying a brown glass bottle.

Fidel directed the attendant to take the money and hand over the goods while he kept a distance of roughly ten meters from Lumian. “Metal containers won’t do. The venom’s potency can be affected by corrosion.”

Lumian nodded subtly, casting a glance at the brown glass bottle before stashing it away in his pocket.

After the attendant departed, Fidel grinned once more.

“I heard you replicated your act from the night before at the bar last night?”

This influential merchant showcased his well-informed nature.

“Indeed, we must employ effective strategies repeatedly,” Lumian tacitly concurred.

Fidel nodded.

“I appreciate a sharp young man like you. I’ll help disseminate your message and ensure Class Khizi hears it promptly.

“Heh heh, the adventurers I assigned to this task previously were far too risk-

averse.”

“No problem. That’s precisely why I’m here today,” Lumian mentioned before making his way to leave.

After a few steps, he abruptly halted, turned around, and spoke thoughtfully, “Do you think Demon Warlock Burman is hiding here?”

Fidel was taken aback.

“What are you talking about?

“What does the Demon Warlock have to do with me?”

“Not much. Just a wild guess,” Lumian replied with a smile. “Rue Coreas is very close to where the explosion occurred last night, and your establishment is quite suitable for hiding.”

Without waiting for Fidel’s response, he took another step and casually exited the building.

Fidel observed Lumian’s departure, furrowing his brow in confusion. He couldn’t fathom why Lumian had uttered those words.

…

In the deep of night, the sound of waves echoed in the distance, and the Flying Bird swayed gently.

Lumian reclined on the bed in Room 5 of the first-class cabin, enveloped in a velvet blanket. His eyes shut tight, breathing deep, he was sound asleep.

Suddenly, a dark cloud materialized outside the window, obscuring the crimson moon and stars in the sky.

The room, draped in curtains, plunged into darkness. Even looking at one’s hands, one could barely discern five fingers.

Within the shadows, something seemed to stir to life.