Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability-Chapter 99 - Guest

If audio player doesn't work, press Reset or reload the page.

99 Guest

Instantly, Lumian tensed up.

He spun around and returned to the bed, scooping up Fallen Mercury with his bandaged left hand.

Grabbing his shotgun, he strode to the bedroom window while the doorbell continued to ring. He scrutinized the entrance.

There was no one there!

In that moment, Lumian’s heart felt like it was about to seize.

He intended to activate his Spirit Vision for a better look.

Since he would hear the maddening and terrifying sound and show signs of losing control after entering Cogitation for a few seconds in the dream ruins, he couldn’t use this ability smoothly. It took him a while to complete the corresponding operation.

However, even with his Spirit Vision activated, he still didn’t notice anyone at the door.

Yet, the doorbell rang incessantly.

As his thoughts raced, Lumian seriously considered returning to bed, forcing himself to sleep and escape the dream.

But he felt that even if he returned to reality, he might not be able to evade the subsequent attack, considering the unknown danger that could invade his semi-subterranean two-story building at any moment.

Two scenarios:

If the person ringing the doorbell can enter, going to bed is as good as surrendering.

If they can’t enter, I’ll be safe as long as I don’t open the door myself.

Regardless, I must go downstairs and take a look…

Lumian made up his mind quickly.

He sheathed Fallen Mercury at his waist, clipped his axe, and hoisted his shotgun. He stepped out of the room and cautiously descended the stairs.

Upon reaching the first floor, a figure came into view.

At the six-person dining table sat the enigmatic woman Lumian had been searching for.

She wore a white blouse with a large bow at the collar and loose pearl-gray pants. Her casual attire was deceptively elegant.

She sipped a pale-golden drink, a short black hat beside her.

Lumian relaxed and approached the mysterious woman with brown hair and blue eyes.

He set the shotgun and axe aside, pulled out a chair opposite the dining table, and sat down. He asked, “You can enter here?”

The woman set her glass down and smiled.

“How else do you think those materials were delivered to your room?”

As she spoke, the jingling sound ceased.

Lumian glanced at the door, puzzled.

“Since you’re already inside, why were you still ringing the doorbell?”

She smiled and replied, “That’s basic courtesy.”

Courtesy that can scare people to death? Lumian dared only to mutter inwardly.

He got straight to the point.

“I’ve obtained the Pyromaniac Beyonder ingredient. Uh, it should be Pyromaniac.”

The woman nodded gently.

“I know. That’s why I came to see you.”

“Are you willing to help me separate the Provoker Beyonder characteristics and give me the corresponding potion formula?” Lumian suppressed his sudden joy and asked, “I was planning on finding you at Ol’ Tavern.”

As for the price he would have to pay, he no longer cared.

The lady smiled and said, “With Cordu’s current situation, it’s very dangerous for you to go out, so I came here directly. I can indeed provide the help you want, but it won’t be free this time.”

Lumian noticed that indecipherable emotion in the woman’s eyes again, but the notion that it was no longer free reassured him.

The unknown was even more terrifying.

“What is the price I need to pay?” he asked without hesitation.

She replied calmly, “The separated Pyromaniac and Hunter Beyonder characteristics belong to me.”

That simple? Lumian was surprised.

He didn’t even think of it as a price. After all, he wouldn’t be able to use the Pyromaniac Beyonder characteristics for a long time.

She continued, “In addition to the help I originally provided, if there’s any more in the future—if there’s a future for you—you have to do something for me.”

Lumian sensed the inscrutable emotion in her eyes intensify.

He probed, “What if I don’t?”

She laughed.

“Isn’t it common for investments to fail? Didn’t your sister lose some money buying stocks with divination?”

“What do you need me to do?” Lumian asked without hesitation.

She sighed softly.

“Let’s talk about it if you can survive.

“Alright, give me the Beyonder characteristic you obtained.”

Lumian rose and headed for the stairs leading to the second floor.

He barely restrained himself from sprinting up the staircase. When she could no longer see him, he dashed.

Soon, Lumian returned to the first floor with the cloth bag containing the Pyromaniac Beyonder characteristic and approached the dining table.

The woman raised her glass again and sipped the pale-gold liquid.

“What’s this?” Lumian asked casually.

She explained simply, “It’s an aperitif from Trier called Black Poca. It’s brewed from ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves soaked in sweet wine for a long time. It tastes pretty good.”

Having raised the topic merely to build rapport, Lumian didn’t pry further. He opened the cloth bag and extracted the burning heart from the soil.

A scorching sensation seared his palm. Enduring the mild pain, he leaned forward and handed the Beyonder characteristic to the woman across the dining table.

She extended her left palm and let the “heart” hover in midair.

She glanced at Lumian and chuckled.

“When storing Beyonder characteristics in the future, remember to change their environment every once in a while. If such a thing comes into contact with something for too long, it’s very likely to fuse with it and become a mystical item that needs to be sealed.”

Is that so… Lumian asked, “How often do I need to make a change?”

“Normally, it takes two to three days,” the woman said nonchalantly, “but accidents do happen. I recommend switching environments every 24 hours. With proper sealing and preservation, it could last months or even years. Also, if you’ve already mixed Beyonder ingredients into a potion, drink it as soon as possible. Otherwise, the liquid might merge with the bottle.”

As she spoke, a sudden flash enveloped her body, and the burning “heart” transformed into countless red fireflies.

The fireflies danced and swirled, coalescing into three distinct objects.

One was a dark red, springy, textured object. Another was a shrunken version of the burning heart, now missing numerous holes. The last was a black stone with a liquid-like surface and a potent odor.

The woman’s right palm caressed the three objects, causing two to vanish into thin air.

All that remained on the dining table was the dark “rock,” about half the size of a fist.

“Is this the Provoker Beyonder characteristic?” Lumian asked eagerly.

The woman produced a post-it note and a silver fountain pen, scribbling down the potion formula, then reminded him, “You still lack mystical knowledge. After killing the monster, you only took the Beyonder characteristic.

“Such Beyonder creatures are rich in spirituality. Many of their parts can be used to make charms, lotions, and ingredients for certain spells and rituals. For example, its blood is a supplementary ingredient for the Pyromaniac potion.

“Although the Pyromaniac potion requires Fire Salamander blood, the monster’s blood will do. It’s essentially the same, and the effects might even be better.”

The more Lumian listened, the more regretful he became.

Although Aurore’s adventure novels included scenes of hunting monsters and harvesting parts, he hadn’t connected this to reality. He believed the flaming monster’s only value was its Beyonder characteristic.

And now, retrieving it was impossible—the blood would have dried by now!

The woman ignored his reaction, tearing off the top note and letting it float toward Lumian.

Lumian grabbed it and read the words eagerly.

“Provoker potion formula:

“Main ingredient: One Provoker Beyonder characteristic;

“Supplementary ingredients: 50 milliliters of distilled liquor, 10 drops of honeysuckle extract, 5 grams of grapevine powder, 10 grams of fern powder;

“Usage: Drink it directly.”

After finishing, Lumian asked, puzzled, “There aren’t any materials rich in spirituality…”

Like the Fire Salamander’s blood.

She smiled and replied, “Different potions have different requirements. Yours mainly relies on symbolic mysticism.

“For example, ferns symbolize being ‘easily influenced by others.’ This aligns with the essence of a Provoker.”

So, a Provoker needs to sway others with their words? Lumian tucked the note away, pondering where he might find the supplementary ingredients.

Distilled liquor was available at home; Aurore used it in certain dishes. Grapevines and ferns were abundant in Dariège, though venturing out might be risky. The only item left was honeysuckle—he’d have to ask Aurore if she had any among her spell-casting supplies…

When Lumian looked up again, the woman across from him, along with the black short hat and the Black Poca aperitif, had disappeared.

He hadn’t even noticed when she’d left.

This despite the fact that his Spirit Vision hadn’t been deactivated the entire time.

Phew. Lumian exhaled and headed back to the bedroom, clutching the Provoker Beyonder characteristic and the potion formula, anticipation swelling within him.

He quickly lay down on the bed, intending to return to reality and consult Aurore, hoping to gather the additional ingredients by nightfall.

He didn’t care that his Spirit Vision was still active; it would deactivate on its own once he fell asleep.

In the dead of night, Lumian opened his eyes and glanced over at Aurore.

He couldn’t wait to share the news of acquiring the Provoker potion formula with his sister.

Yet, almost simultaneously, he spotted Aurore’s mouth open slightly, a hazy, translucent figure emerging.

It was a bizarre, lizard-like creature!

Lumian’s gaze locked in place. As the ethereal lizard surveyed its surroundings, he instinctively shut his eyes.

The “lizard” darted its gaze around before quickly scurrying away from Aurore’s mouth and exiting the room.

Lumian reopened his eyes, staring at his sister in bewilderment.

Aurore’s face was shrouded in darkness.

Her mouth hung slightly open as she slumbered peacefully.

Lumian observed her, motionless, as if he’d become a statue.

In the thick of night, his heart sank further into despair.