352 Spring Source
A figure staggered out from the depths of the tomb.

As the figure entered the range of the candle flames, it seemed uncomfortable with the light. It raised its right hand to shield itself from the glare.

Similar to the tomb administrators, the figure wore a blue shirt and yellow pants. However, his face bore deep wrinkles and light-brown patches. Sparse, dry, white hair adorned his head, and his eyes were an unusual pure black, giving off an icy coldness.

For some inexplicable reason, Lumian found it challenging to discern the features of the aged tomb administrator. His form seemed to blur at the edges, blending seamlessly with the surrounding darkness, impervious to the white candle’s glow. His breath was so faint it bordered on non-existent.

In a hoarse, emotionless voice, like that of a corpse capable of speech, he uttered, “Get out of here!”

“Since it’s open for viewing, there shouldn’t be any restricted areas!” Lumian retorted, echoing the tone of college students in Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative, attempting to reason with him.

But the aged tomb administrator repeated, “Get out of here!”

Lumian turned to Hela, hoping she might succeed in persuading the gravekeeper.

If that failed, he was prepared to take more direct action, either restraining the other party or even rendering him unconscious.

The Spell of Harrumph was perfectly suited for such tasks.

However, Hela shook her head slowly and began to exit the tomb.

…

Deep underground near the arcade of the opera house, Franca gazed at the entrustee and inquired, “What kind of deal?”

The Warlock-dressed man responded in a shrill tone, “I’ll increase the reward to 50,000 verl d’or. Go to the Deep Valley Quarry and create a huge commotion, exposing the secret cave.

“If you’re willing, you can sign the contract now. I have a way to ensure the contract’s binding powers on both parties.”

Fifty thousand verl d’or to create an explosion capable of shattering the stone wall at the secret cave’s entrance? Why seek us out for such a straightforward task while offering a generous compensation of 50,000 verl d’or? Franca’s suspicion deepened.

With a subtle movement, Franca produced a fist-sized grayish-white cloth bag and tossed it into the shadows beside her. She assumed a guarded posture against the man across from her and as though it was inconvenient for her to find a necessary item.

“Help me find my seal.”

Seal? Jenna materialized from the shadows and caught the small coin bag, hearing the metallic clinks within.

She was baffled by Franca’s request.

Isn’t the bag supposed to be filled with coins and the Ring of Punishment?

Franca smiled at the entrustee.

“What are the specific terms of the contract?”

She sensed the possibility that the other party might manipulate the contract using Beyonder powers from the corresponding domain. Franca had a plan to attack before committing to any contract—capture him, clarify the terms, and then consider whether to sign it!

…

Baffled, Lumian followed Hela out of the tomb and asked, “What do we do now?”

“Grab my right arm,” Hela’s voice was colder than before, devoid of warmth.

Lumian roughly grasped her thoughts and quickly complied, reaching out to firmly grasp her right arm.

Almost instantly, Hela twirled the black diamond ring on her right middle finger with her left palm.

Almost simultaneously, Lumian felt a profound shift. He was no longer in the same world as the tomb entrance.

Surveying his surroundings, he noticed that everything, including the dim candlelight, had become hazy, shrouded in dense fog.

Guided by Hela, Lumian moved cautiously through the thick fog, taking one step at a time.

There was no movement in the depths of the tomb, and the two of them slowly advanced in silence.

Before long, within the limited visibility of five meters, he spotted a rotting coffin standing upright on the ground.

The aged tomb administrator lay motionless in the coffin, his eyes wide open and devoid of life.

Lumian couldn’t detect any sign of breathing this time.

In this foggy state, the aged tomb administrator seemed to pay them no mind, allowing Lumian and Hela to pass by as they headed towards the end of the tomb.

There, they found a gentle downward slope leading to an unknown destination.

Hela gestured for Lumian to release his grip, and the enigmatic concealment dissipated.

Standing at the top of the slope, Lumian held a candle flame in his hand, illuminating a path lined with scattered, broken bones.

An unsettling chill emanated from the depths of his heart, stifling his emotions and desires. Yet, an unshakable anger and malice of wanting to snap someone’s neck persisted, growing stronger. Lumian felt as though he was observing his own duality—a sane self contrasted with a crazed, unfamiliar self.

He couldn’t help but glance at Hela, who downed a flask of liquor in one go. Her face remained pale, and purplish-red patches marred her skin, making her look as if she had been dead for some time.

“Are you alright?” Lumian remembered his primary role as a constant reminder to Hela to prevent her from being corrupted by the catacombs and undergoing any abnormalities.

Hela put away the empty flask and replied in a lifeless voice, “I’m fine for now. I’ve made preparations to deal with this situation. As long as I don’t linger too long, I should be alright.”

Lumian pressed, “How long can you stay?”

“About half an hour,” Hela replied, beginning to descend the slope.

Lumian planned to grab Hela’s arm and use spirit world traversal to force her out of here a few minutes in advance, regardless of what they found later.

Descending deeper, the slope became littered with more bones, gradually taking on complete and original forms. Some resembled humans, while others appeared monstrous.
The skeleton Hela had awakened earlier knelt on one knee on this slope, unable to proceed further.

As they continued, Lumian noticed a thin grayish-white fog up ahead, contracting and expanding, as if it had a life of its own.

Hela slowed her pace and regarded the fog with heightened caution.

“Is there a problem?” Lumian asked, finding the fog oddly familiar.

Hela nodded and said, “It’s very dangerous. I’ve prepared as best as I can, but I’m not certain it will work.”

As Lumian listened to Madame Hela’s response, he continued to observe the grayish-white fog.

Suddenly, he recognized it.

Isn’t this the same fog that shrouded Cordu’s ruins?

The very fog that provided protection when I prayed for boons?

In that moment, Lumian realized the true reason behind Madam Justice’s insistence that he accompany Madame Hela in the search for the Samaritan Women’s Spring.

He cautiously extended his right palm towards the grayish-white fog, and as they touched, he felt warmth in his left chest.

He knew that Mr. Fool’s seal had been activated.

He pushed forward, his right palm passing through the grayish-white fog without encountering any danger or abnormality.

With newfound confidence, he couldn’t help but think, Praise The Fool!

After a brief prayer, Lumian turned to Hela with a confident smile.

“I’ve also made the necessary preparations, and they seem effective.

“I’ll grab your arm.”

Hela didn’t inquire further about Lumian’s preparations or the information he possessed. She allowed him to grab her left arm, and together, they ventured into the grayish-white fog.

The surroundings grew even quieter, and an unusual, almost palpable aura seemed to fill the air. Before long, they heard an ethereal and faint splashing sound.

The sound of water… Lumian felt a surge of excitement and relief.

They were in the right place, and the Samaritan Women’s Spring was likely nearby!

They continued to move forward, and as they did, the grayish-white fog rapidly dissipated, revealing a pond-sized spring.

Around the spring, a dark substance of an indescribable color encircled the pale-white water at its center.

In the water, wet, black seaweed-like hair floated, and a few vague figures struggled to crawl out from the depths.

A woman stood beside the spring. It was the white-robed figure Lumian had seen before, suspected to be a high-ranking Demoness.

Her face was pale-white and translucent, her eyes blank and cold. White bones were scattered around her.

Splash!

Suddenly, the pale-white spring water receded with a splash, leaving behind a pitch-black hole that seemed to defy the presence of light.

With another splash, the spring water surged from the dark hole, filling the pond-sized spring once more.

This time, it was dimmer, less pale-white, and appeared empty and dark, containing countless indescribable colors.

In an instant, the spring water blended with the surrounding grayish-white fog, restoring its original appearance when Lumian and Hela first laid eyes on it.

In this place, their memories began to blur as if they were slowly fading away.

In a hurry, Lumian reached into his pocket, intending to retrieve the metal canister he had prepared to collect the pale-white spring water.

But he touched something stone-like.

He had never put anything similar into his pocket!

Lumian retracted his right hand in surprise and saw a brown stone in his palm. The stone was riddled with potholes, each filled with dark-red speckled spots.

Earth Blood ore!

It was the Earth Blood ore he had previously lost.

When did it return? Why did it suddenly appear in my possession? This is a part of Underground Trier! As Lumian’s pupils dilated in alarm, a frenzied, terrifying aura saturated with blood and rust emanated from the dark hole that had swallowed the pale-white spring water once more.

The mere presence of this aura froze Lumian and Hela simultaneously, rendering them immobile.

Beside the suspected high-ranking Demoness, a skeleton raised its palm and touched its right eye.

Simultaneously, it bared its white teeth and emitted a chilling, delighted laugh.

“You’ve already obtained it. How can you not give it a try?”

Around the spring, other white skeletons joined in, their mouths opening to produce the same voice: “You’ve already obtained it. How can you not give it a try?”