356 Scar
As time ticked away, Lumian sensed his body temperature slowly dissipating. Even the blazing sun outside the public carriage window couldn’t stave off this change.

His thoughts dulled, and the skin on the back of his hand turned a pallid white.

At last, Lumian made it to the market district.

As he disembarked from the public carriage, his limbs seemed to stiffen.

Just as he turned onto Rue des Blouses Blanches, a man who approached him was taken aback. He let out a quiet gasp, his eyes filled with fear.

Lumian instinctively glanced to the side, assessing his reflection in the café’s glass window.

His blonde-black hair appeared as if it hadn’t been washed for days, and his face had turned a sickly shade of pale blue. There were purplish-red patches and signs of decay on his neck, and his eyes mirrored the cold emptiness of a corpse that had lain dead for many days.

Lumian smirked at the man and remarked, “Well, what do you think? Have I convincingly transformed into a zombie?”

He noticed his voice adopting a colder tone, reminiscent of Hela.

The gentleman silently cursed and bypassed the fellow who appeared ready to attend a masquerade ball.

Lumian knew the corruption consuming him was worsening. He quickened his pace and reached the safe house he hadn’t yet turned over.

Swiftly, he arranged the altar, unfolded a piece of paper, and penned a brief letter to Madam Magician.

“I’ve fulfilled Madam Justice’s mission and acquired the spring water of Samaritan Women’s Spring, but I’m also succumbing to corruption. It’s worsening. How can I eradicate it?”

After neatly folding the letter, Lumian summoned Madam Magician’s messenger.

The “doll” messenger materialized above the blue candle flame and gave Lumian an approving nod.

“I’m quite fond of your current demeanor, though your hair is too greasy.”

The aura of near-death? Lumian’s urge to mutter was weaker than before.

After watching the “doll” messenger depart, he set a fifteen-minute time limit. If Madam Magician didn’t respond by then, he’d have to explore other avenues to rid himself of the corruption. One possibility was to perform a ritual and beseech Mr. Fool.

Tick, tock. The needle on the pocket watch borrowed from Salle de Bal Brise maintained a steady rhythm. However, Lumian had previously noticed that it was nearly ten minutes slow. It was as if the closer he came to the Samaritan Women’s Spring, the slower it ticked.

Suddenly, starlight materialized from the void, forming a mysterious and ethereal door.

The door swung open, and Madam Magician emerged, dressed in a brownish-yellow gown. Beyond the door, there was a profound darkness adorned with starlight.

The Tarot Club’s Major Arcana card holder glanced at Lumian and gave a gentle nod.

I’ll still have to pray to Mr. Fool? Lumian didn’t probe further. He proceeded with the ritual at the prepared altar.

He lit the candles in the correct sequence and let the extract drip. After burning the herbs, he stepped back, gazing at the candle flames, and intoned in a deep voice, “The Fool that doesn’t belong to this era, the mysterious ruler above the gray fog; the King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck…

“I implore you,

“I implore you to cleanse the corruption within me…”

Once the ritual concluded, Lumian once again saw an angel formed from light, surrounded by twelve pairs of luminous wings.

With only his peripheral vision remaining, he felt the chill in his body dissipate, and his body temperature quickly returned to normal.

Before long, the angel departed. Lumian looked at the full-length mirror in the room and realized that his complexion, hair, and eyes had completely returned to normal. The purplish-red livor mortis had vanished entirely. Only a few traces of decay remained, but there were no signs of deterioration. It seemed that these remnants would heal with time.

Lumian expressed heartfelt gratitude to Mr. Fool and concluded the ritual.

As he turned to Madam Magician, a sudden recollection struck him, and he hastily raised his right hand to inspect his palm.

The wound from the corrosion of the Earth Blood ore was still there. Though it was no longer as vividly red as when it first fused with the “rust,” it hadn’t faded either. It appeared as if he had marked his palm with a few scars using blood.

Sensing a faint undercurrent of madness and violence emanating from his right palm, Lumian furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Can’t this be cleansed?”

Madam Magician fixed her gaze on his right palm for a few moments but didn’t provide a direct answer. Instead, she spoke, “Share the details with me.”

She took the initiative to pull up a chair and sat down, showing no inclination to continue the conversation standing.

Lumian settled into a chair at the wooden table, beginning with Madam Justice’s assignment and recounting how he and Hela had each extracted a third of a canister’s worth of Samaritan Women’s Spring water.

He narrated the encounter with the colossal, frenzied figure and the bizarre power. Simultaneously, he didn’t omit any details about Monette’s appearance and actions, as well as the curious “return” of the Earth Blood ore.

Madam Magician listened to Lumian’s account in silence before letting out a chuckle.

“It’s quite challenging for truly formidable figures to die completely. Even without Beyonder characteristics, bodies, or souls, they often leave behind mental imprints, death marks, residual auras, and other remnants. When the right conditions align, they may find a way back into the real world with a suitable vessel.”

“Like the Oldest One, the Creator?” Lumian grasped the gist of Madam Magician’s explanation and inquired further, “So, who is this figure?”

Madam Magician took a moment to reflect and replied, “It’s likely the Blood Emperor of the Fourth Epoch, Alista Tudor.”

“The Blood Emperor? One of the Four Emperors?” Lumian had heard this title and name mentioned by Gardner Martin.

Alista Tudor’s empire once spanned what was present-day Intis. The Trier, submerged underground, had served as His capital.
According to Gardner Martin, the Blood Emperor was a true deity who grasped the Hunter pathway, signifying that He was a Sequence 0 Red Priest!

“That’s correct,” Madam Magician affirmed. “The War of the Four Emperors was a genuine conflict among gods. Alista Tudor met His end in the submerged Fourth Epoch Trier, which also caused the capital to sink underground. He had long descended into madness and committed numerous atrocities. Rumor has it that He nearly entombed all the deities who participated in the war alongside Him. Even now, many remnants of that war lie buried beneath Trier, profoundly shaping some aspects of the Fifth Epoch’s history.”

The Fifth Epoch, the epoch in which Lumian and his companions resided, was often referred to as the Iron Age.

Nearly burying all the deities who participated in the war? The Blood Emperor was truly deranged… Lumian mused, genuinely intrigued.

“What occurred during the War of the Four Emperors?”

“I’m not entirely certain either,” Madam Magician admitted with a shrug. “I’ve only heard about it from two beings who personally witnessed the war. Even They don’t possess the full picture. After all, one should not look directly at a god. Remember, never look directly at a god, even if it’s an incomplete Mythical Creature transformed from a Sequence 4 saint.”

Beings who had personally experienced the War of the Four Emperors and still survived to this day? To have participated in such a divine conflict, they must be at least angels… Could they be the two angels beside Mr. Fool’s throne? Yes, the Holy Bible mentioned that Mr. Fool’s Angel of Time was an ancient angel, and one of them could be this figure? Lumian pieced together the information he had and ventured a guess.

Having heard Aurore mention the concept of Mythical Creatures and their associated complexities, Lumian had no doubt about the admonition “never look directly at a god.”

Eagerly, Lumian asked, “So, after the Blood Emperor’s demise, His mental mark, death mark, or residual aura remained sealed within the Samaritan Women’s Spring?”

“That would likely be a death mark, but I suspect it’s intertwined with a mental mark, residual aura, and even some lingering spirits left behind for reasons unknown. Otherwise, Blood Emperor Alista Tudor wouldn’t persist in a combative state within the spring. Heh heh, combat can indeed be considered a Hunter trait,” Madam Magician speculated.

As Madam Magician spoke, she extended her hand into the void, disappearing from Lumian’s sight.

After a brief search, she reappeared, holding a tempting glass of Kirsch.

“Didn’t your sister teach you? When you have a guest, remember to ask if they want tea or wine, or perhaps offer snacks,” Madam Magician chided playfully as she took a sip of the light red wine and shook her head.

How could I remember at a time like this? Where did she get her wine? Only then did Lumian realize that he had forgotten to ask about the most important thing.

He sincerely acknowledged the lesson and then raised another query.

“What’s the origins of the strange power that dragged the Blood Emperor back into the spring?”

“I don’t know,” Madam Magician replied candidly. “Even a true god might not know. All I can be certain of is that it has no connection to the War of the Four Emperors.”

Lumian decided to put this matter aside for now and turned his attention to his right hand, where the mysterious traces remained.

“What are these marks? Can’t Mr. Fool cleanse them?”

“If this isn’t corruption, it can’t be cleansed,” Madam Magician explained while sipping her Kirsch. “It’s more similar to a mystical item embedded in your hand. It will bring about certain adverse effects, and these effects can’t be cleansed unless the item itself is removed.”

“A mystical item… What’s its purpose and what dangers does it hold?” Lumian hadn’t anticipated this revelation.

“It’s useless.” Madam Magician chuckled. “I mentioned it’s similar, but not equivalent. It certainly isn’t a direct source of power enhancement. Rumor has it that in the underground of the Fourth Epoch’s Trier, there are numerous treasures left behind by Blood Emperor Alista Tudor in various hidden locations. Only those with the Tudor family’s bloodline can unlock them. And now, you can unlock them as well.”

So, it’s like my palm contains some of Tudor’s blood and aura, unrelated to Beyonder powers? Lumian tried to probe the bright red scars on his right palm with his consciousness.

As soon as the two connected, he was abruptly engulfed by a surge of frenzied, violent, terrifying, and dominating aura. The entire room, and even the entire apartment, quaked uncontrollably.