BXBX NOVEL Chapter 503 - 503 Penitent
The repeated failures struck her hard, and her disappointment and frustration were evident from her blank expression.
Nevertheless, she didn’t let her emotions dictate her actions. Undeterred, she proceeded to summon the remaining 24 spirit world creatures.
The situation was becoming increasingly clear—success, if achievable, would happen in the first few attempts!
Jenna glanced at the disappointed Franca.
“Give it a try when your Sequence is higher.”
Franca grumbled, “When I reach a higher Sequence, I might use a mirror and the mirror world to send messages. Why would I need a messenger? Why aren’t there any spirit world creatures tempted by a Demoness’s charm and willing to become a messenger?”
Lumian let out a chuckle.
“I’ve seen something similar in the information about spirit world creatures. Would you like to give it a try?”
Despite her reluctance to admit defeat, Franca remained pragmatic. She cursed, “Forget it, forget it. Such spirit world creatures are definitely dangerous. All they can think about is dragging a Demoness into the spirit world. Even delivering a letter will help me turn my friend into an enemy.”
Seeing that she had calmed down, Anthony Reid, a fellow novice in ritualistic magic, made his attempt.
Like Franca, he too faced a series of challenges. Five attempts were made, with two summoning failures and three unsuccessful contract formations.
“Looks like I can’t have a messenger for the time being,” Anthony sighed with a bitter smile.
Franca’s emotions eased significantly.
She wasn’t alone in facing difficulties.
“Which one do you want to summon?” she asked Lumian curiously.
“The coolest one.” Lumian, maintaining an air of nonchalance, sanctified the ritual silver dagger and recreated the spiritual barrier.
Focusing on the burning candle flames, he took steps back, alternating between ancient Hermes and Hermes.
“I!
“I summon in my name:
“A creature wandering above the world, the penitent who awakens from the flames of pain, a friendly person corrupted by darkness.”
This summoning incantation, unique information from Madam Magician, deviated from the norm. It wasn’t just a spirit but a creature wandering above the world. The latter descriptions combined encounters and characteristics, adding an intriguing layer to the summoning.
Lumian found the temperament and style of this particular creature impressive and decided to make it his first attempt. He sought a messenger capable of delivering a letter and traversing the spirit world, indifferent to other considerations. Why not choose the coolest one?
As the incantation echoed, the candle flame expanded, acquiring a dark-green hue bordering on black.
With each intensifying flicker, a figure materialized.
It was a tall, human-like being dressed in deep-black robes reminiscent of the Eternal Blazing Sun Church clergy.
However, his exposed face and limbs bore the marks of prolonged incineration, leaving only bones and charred flesh. Empty eye sockets glowed with dark flames, while strange, viscous black flames lingered, causing perpetual pain to the spirit.
Lumian gazed at the Penitent and asked in ancient Hermes, “Are you willing to become my messenger?”
Responding in ancient Feysac, the source of several Northern Continent languages, the Penitent offered a condition,
“If you’re not concerned about being implicated by me and slowly slipping into the darkness, I can help you deliver letters.”
No compensation, but there’s latent danger? Since Madam Magician provided the Penitent’s information, it means I can bear it… Lumian, who had too much mysticism “debt” to worry about, smiled and said,
“That depends on whether you and darkness can win the tug-of-war. No problem. I was mentally prepared for this before summoning you.”
This time, he switched to ancient Feysac to communicate with the other party. After all, it was quite troublesome to use ancient Hermes, which could stir the power of nature, to say so much.
Soon, he drafted the contract and penned the four-line mysticism description representing the Underworld’s representative as witness.
Illuminated by ancient Hermes words engulfed in ghastly green flames, Lumian fixed the summoning incantation to: “A creature wandering above the world, the penitent who awakens from the flames of pain, a messenger that belongs solely to Lumian Lee.”
Lumian didn’t adopt a code name like Jenna and the Knight of Swords. After all, those who knew about his messenger might not know that he was a Minor Arcana card holder of the Tarot Club. This was the self-cultivation of a veteran spy, and it didn’t matter if Lumian Lee’s name and corresponding background were known.
With his name penned down, Lumian witnessed the yellowish-brown goatskin fly towards the black-robed Penitent.
The Penitent signed his name: Baynfel.
The ghastly green flames intertwined, consuming the contract and seamlessly merging with the spirit world.
Curious about his new messenger, Lumian queried Penitent Baynfel, “What are you penitent about?”
However, Baynfel remained silent, and a viscous black flame descended from his body, disappearing into the soil.
Despite Lumian’s persistent questioning, Baynfel kept his silence.
Lumian chuckled and remarked, “Very good. All hairdressers should learn from you,” before concluding the summoning.
After he dismantled the wall of spirituality, Franca looked at him with a resentful expression.
“You succeeded on the first try?”
“I succeeded on the first try.” Lumian lacked any evident joy, as if he was talking about something ordinary.
Perplexed and unable to let go of her own failures, Franca questioned, “Why? Why aren’t Anthony and I popular with the spirit world creatures? Why?”
It had to be said that the Demoness of Pleasure was quite charming. Seeing Franca like this, Ascetic Lumian wanted to walk up to her, raise his right hand, and flick her forehead.
It made him want to bully her!
He pondered for a moment.
“I roughly understand the reason. Being a Minor Arcana card holder of the Tarot Club increases our chances of successfully summoning special spirit world creatures. Even a Psychiatrist like Anthony succeeded several times during his first ritualistic magic.
“However, to gain their favor or obedience, you need a higher level, a special pathway, or something related to Mr. Fool. For example, Jenna’s lucky gold coin and Mr. Fool’s power on me.”
A sudden realization struck Lumian.
If that’s the reason, does the Knight of Swords, who also possesses a messenger, have something similar?
“I see!” Franca, buoyed by this insight, regained confidence.
It wasn’t that there was a problem with her; she simply lacked a “prop.”
She then looked at Jenna, contemplating whether to borrow the lucky gold coin to complete the messenger contract.
Franca eventually dismissed the idea. There was a significant mysticism difference between “ownership” and “loaning.” She was afraid that Jenna wouldn’t be able to handle it if she were to give it and take it back in the future without a unique opportunity.
Phew… Franca exhaled and was about to inquire when Lumian planned to leave Trier and how, when she noticed her companion’s inexplicable silence and a hint of dejection.
“What’s the matter?” Franca inquired, concerned.
“Nothing.” Lumian shook his head.
He suddenly remembered that Aurore had once yearned for a messenger.
Anthony glanced at Lumian, but no words were exchanged. Jenna brought up the Purifiers’ Deacon Angoulême’s proposal to purchase the Pride Armor, prompting Lumian to fall into a brief silence before chuckling.
“I’ll decide after some time.”
Despite recognizing the danger of the Pride Armor, Lumian acknowledged its formidable power. It could pose a threat to all Beyonders below the demigod level. If wearing it was the key to defeating Loki and other key members of April Fool’s, Lumian wouldn’t hesitate to use it, prepared to face the consequences.
Lumian wouldn’t give up on the Sealed Artifact just because it was dangerous, until he eliminated all those scoundrels or until he was too strong for Pride Armor.
“Alright,” Franca inquired, “Are you leaving Trier tomorrow? Will you take a boat, a steam locomotive, or seek the spirit world’s coordinates from Madam Magician and ‘teleport’ there?”
Lumian chuckled.
“All of them are possible. I’ll decide tomorrow. Let’s see what fate has in mind.”
Franca muttered, “When did you learn to act all mysterious…”
…
After bidding farewell to his three companions, Lumian adorned the silver Lie earring and subtly altered his hair color and appearance. Making his way down Avenue du Marché into Rue Anarchie, he arrived at Auberge du Coq Doré’s underground bar.
Seemingly unaffected by the previous night’s catastrophe, the bar retained its lively atmosphere. Regular patrons occupied their usual spots—some singing loudly, others dancing around small round tables, and a few engaged in gambling with alcohol as stakes.
Charlie, now in a black coat, stood at a small round table, enthusiastically exclaiming, “You might not know this, but Ciel Dubois and I are friends. We’ve been through life and death together! Look, look, his bounty has been updated to 60,000 verl d’or! What a substantial sum!”
You’re quite proud of me… Lumian scoffed and settled at the bar, ordering a glass of absinthe.
In the midst of the commotion, he silently listened, savoring the bitter liquor.
Pavard Neeson, the proprietor wiping glasses, noticed the new face and smilingly inquired, “Have you just arrived in the market district?”
“Yes,” Lumian responded in a deep voice.
Pavard Neeson said gently, “You seem to have a story.”
Lumian sighed, taking a sip of the dreamy La Fée Verte. With a self-deprecating smile, he said, “I’m a nobody…”