338 Hela
Little Cow Café served the working-class folks of the nearby streets, offering them affordable breakfast and lunch options. Even amidst the bustling night market, patrons could enjoy a hearty and satisfying meal for just 1 verl d’or. Many individuals with modest incomes, such as motel attendants, restaurant handymen, and cleaning staff earning between 60 to 80 verl d’or per month, frequented the café either alone or with their families every couple of weeks to treat themselves.

When Lumian finally arrived, the bustling breakfast rush had subsided. The café had only a handful of customers, and the staff seemed somewhat fatigued, lacking any enthusiasm.

After placing an order for a cup of Macael coffee brewed from ground coffee beans, Lumian settled into the designated spot, patiently awaiting Hela’s arrival.

As the cuckoo wall clock in the café struck the hour, a woman pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Clad in an intriguing black dress, she emitted an enigmatic allure, reminiscent of the attire one might expect from a widow.

Upon spotting the woman approaching, Lumian straightened up and scrutinized her intently.

Her skin possessed an unnaturally pale complexion, as though she had been shielded from sunlight for an extended period. Light golden hair cascaded naturally over her shoulders, soft yet lacking in luster. Her eyes seemed to absorb all available light, rendering them dark and impervious to revealing their true color. Though her facial features were rather attractive, they didn’t leave a distinct impression on Lumian. It was almost as though her cold demeanor had cast a shadow, preventing him from forming a complete assessment.

Her icy demeanor didn’t merely create distance; it seemed to emanate from within her, causing the ambient temperature to dip slightly.

Before Lumian could discern more details, the woman seated herself across from him and inquired in a chilly tone, “Muggle’s brother?”

Although Lumian had already surmised that this was Madame Hela, her directness caught him slightly off guard.

He hadn’t expected her to appear without any attempt at disguise, seemingly unconcerned about potential betrayal.

Lumian didn’t use the Niese Face or the Mystery Prying Glasses, but he usually employed basic disguises. Relying on his distinctive golden-black hair and simple makeup, he maintained enough divergence from the Lumian Lee depicted in the wanted posters.

Perhaps this is a form of disguise that I can’t detect… Lumian offered a polite smile and nodded. “Madame Hela?”

The lady nodded slightly, acknowledging her identity.

“May I offer you something to drink?” Lumian asked politely.

Hela didn’t stand on ceremony.

“A glass of absinthe, and a triple espresso shot.”

Drinking liquor at 10 a.m., quite the match for my habits… And she even goes for a triple shot of Reem espresso… Did she have a sleepless night? Or perhaps a night of drinking, seeking absinthe to clear her senses? Lumian lifted his right hand and snapped his fingers, signaling the waiter.

Once the light-green absinthe and the strong Reem espresso arrived in front of Hela, Lumian surveyed his surroundings to ensure a secure environment for their conversation.

Gulp… Hela downed half the glass of absinthe in one swift motion, her pale face gradually regaining some color.

Setting the glass down, she turned a ring on her right middle finger using her left thumb and index finger.

The ring possessed an elegant simplicity, a black diamond with numerous facets set into a base of pure silver.

As Hela rotated the ring gently, Lumian experienced a subtle shift in the surroundings, as if the ambient light had dimmed.

“No one can eavesdrop on us now.” Hela’s voice retained its chilly demeanor.

Impressive… This mastery goes beyond Franca’s abilities. Truly befitting of a member of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society who has ventured farthest along the paths of the divine… Lumian maintained his gaze on Hela’s black eyes that possessed a light-swallowing intensity. He proceeded with calm composure.

“I’ve made some new discoveries recently.”

Hela remained silent, her gaze fixed on Lumian, awaiting further disclosure.

“I’ve caught Guillaume Bénet.” Lumian conveyed this without an air of boastfulness; it was akin to a bartender at Salle de Bal Brise mentioning the concoction of a new cocktail.

Hela’s response was a nod, displaying scant interest in the specifics of Guillaume Bénet’s capture.

Commencing with Guillaume Bénet, Lumian recounted the transformations of Muggle—Aurore—detailing the peculiarities that arose, including the appearance of the lizard-like elf and the name Roche Louise Sanson.

In conclusion, he presented a stack of papers.

“This is the grimoire my sister penned three months prior to the spread of Inevitability’s faith in Cordu. Please review it and ascertain any irregularities.”

Throughout the narrative, Hela remained an attentive listener. Yet, her emotional fluctuations and facial expressions remained limited. Only when Lumian mentioned the second appearance of the lizard-like elf and uttered the name “Roche Louise Sanson,” did she exhibit a slight frown.

Hela, who had maintained silence, swiftly perused the grimoire, her pace almost supernatural, as though she could glean mystical insights from its pages with each flip, detecting any anomalies.

After a span of five to six minutes, she extracted a page from her notebook.

It bore the Soul Summoning Spell that Aurore had documented.

Only members of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society and those sharing common experiences would detect the issue at a glance… Lumian found himself stirred by a sudden wave of emotion.

Hela raised the absinthe once more, finishing the rest of the dreamy green liquid in a single gulp.

After finishing it, she turned her gaze to Lumian and spoke, “What are your thoughts on the matter of the lizard-like elf?”

“I’ve heard rumors that Heaven has banished a group of elves in recent times. Among them are some who bear resemblance to diaphanous lizards,” Lumian responded. He refrained from delving into the symbolic interpretations that Mr. Poet had provided, instead opting to present the account provided by the official investigator, Ryan.

Hela’s complexion took on a slightly rosier hue, the chill in her demeanor diminishing.

“I possess certain insights into these elves and have conducted a degree of study on them.

“They were not banished from Heaven. It’s plausible that they originated from an alternate realm. Aligning certain folklore and events in the alternate realm, coupled with the passage of time, may have allowed elements from the alternate realm to permeate the spirit world and enter our world.

“At present, this is a hypothesis I personally have. I haven’t substantiated it as yet. I simply wish to convey that I’ve studied the phenomenon of these elves in recent years and have personally encountered the diaphanous lizard-like elves you described. However, they differ from the diaphanous lizard-like beings you’ve mentioned.”

“Not true elves?” Lumian expressed no surprise at this assertion. After all, Ryan and his colleagues had been theorizing, and Mr. Poet’s perspective leaned towards an affiliation with a different faction.

Hela chose not to elaborate, confirming Lumian’s suspicion with a nod.

“I will continue to search for similar motifs in elf legends from various sources.”

Having said that, she spun the grimoire containing the Soul Summoning Spell and pushed it toward Lumian.

“This is likely where your sister’s problem originates.”

Lumian’s eyes conveyed his anticipation for an explanation.

He was genuinely curious to hear Hela’s perspective. However, he didn’t expect her to reveal the most closely guarded secret of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society, as Franca had done.

Hela’s tone remained as cold as ice as she began, “I’ve had numerous interactions with your sister and have discerned that she had been grappling with psychological turmoil rooted in her original family.

“Something is amiss with her biological family. Consequently, your sister had no recourse but to distance herself from them and seek refuge in the border village. It mirrors your gradual realization of Cordu’s growing abnormality, prompting your desire to escape. That’s why I directed your attention to this avenue of investigation.

“And should one employ the Soul Summoning Spell detailed in this notebook upon themselves, it’s highly likely that your sister’s psychological distress will escalate into a mental ailment, potentially leading to true dissociation of her personality.”

Lumian pondered for a moment before inquiring, “Are you suggesting that Roche Louise Sanson is a dissociated persona of my sister? That the foundation of Inevitability’s faith originates from her biological family?”

This deduction, while refraining from disclosing the most guarded secret of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society, seemed to be the most logical conclusion. Yet, Madame Magician had also entertained the notion of dissociative identity disorder as one potential cause.

Hela took a sip of her triple-shot Reem espresso.

“The situation might be more complicated than a case of dissociative identity disorder. There seems to be some bizarre mystical phenomenon involved. That, however, remains contingent upon your future investigations.”

Lumian acknowledged her response with a nod and posed his question with a serious demeanor,

“Is there any issue with the April Fool’s member who sold the Soul Summoning Spell to my sister? Did they foresee a scenario involving dissociative identity disorder?”

Hela remained silent for a few seconds before responding, “It’s suspicious, but I cannot definitively be sure. I intend to probe further, although it might take a considerable duration of time. As you’re aware, the organizational structure of the Research Society is quite informal, and my connections with the individuals from April Fool’s are limited.”

“I understand.” Lumian had heard a similar sentiment from Franca.

Hela glanced at him and pondered for a moment.

“In reality, you are the most suitable candidate to investigate this matter. Unfortunately, you lack the necessary prerequisites.”

“Why do you say that?” Lumian questioned, genuine surprise lacing his words.

For someone known for wit and mischief in Cordu, the prospect of heading the investigation was unexpected. He had assumed that his role would merely entail supporting Franca.

Hela’s tone retained its chilliness.

“If you possessed a Beyonder power to physically alter your appearance, you could transform into Muggle and participate in various Research Society Gatherings as her.

“Then, when the occasion arises, you could observe any April Fool’s member who reacts oddly to Muggle’s presence and displays signs of abnormal behavior. You could even employ yourself as bait to draw out any individual harboring hidden motives.”

Me assuming Aurore and using the code name Muggle to become a member of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society? Lumian had never envisioned such a scenario.

His brow furrowed as he remarked, “Can I really pull off being my sister even with a transformation item? Especially within your Research Society?”
He wasn’t familiar with their world and its intricacies. How could he effectively bridge the communication gap?

Just a sentence or two could potentially blow his cover!