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“What experiment? To test the effects of this armor?” Lugano questioned, a mix of apprehension and confusion in his voice.

As soon as he finished speaking, the air on the dark deck, bathed in the crimson moonlight, suddenly solidified.

In the next instant, the empty armor produced a radiant broadsword, and an unseen force locked onto Lugano.

Wh… Before Lugano could react, the silver-white full-body armor surged forward, the gleaming broadsword poised to strike.

In a split second, Lumian positioned himself in front of Lugano. His body expanded abruptly, almost tearing his linen shirt and black pants.

Bang!

Lumian’s massive fist collided with the Sword of Dawn, creating a metallic clang that resonated through the air.

Only then did Lugano shake off his bewilderment. Though unsure why the empty armor attacked him, he instinctively turned and sprinted away.

After covering some ground, the Pride Armor halted and stood silently.

The Sword of Dawn, fashioned from light, dissipated, turning into beams of light that dispersed the crimson moonlight, casting a dawn-like ambiance upon the dark deck.

This sensation vanished in the blink of an eye.

Lumian, not daring to turn his back on the Pride Armor, repositioned himself and gauged the distance between the armor and Lugano.

About 20 meters… factoring in Lugano’s running speed, the sensing range is approximately 15 meters… Lumian swiftly concluded. His body reverted to its original form, and a confident smile returned to his face.

It was enough. A fifteen-meter range sufficed on the ship!

He stowed away the Pride Armor and addressed Lugano, who was still making his way to the bow, “The experiment is over.”

Huh? Lugano came to a sudden halt, realizing that Lumian had already stashed the peculiar silver-white full-body armor back into the mystical item cleverly disguised as a coin bag.

Relieved, he jogged back, curiosity etched on his face as he inquired, “Did the experiment succeed?”

“Very successful,” Lumian replied, sporting a radiant smile.

Though Lugano didn’t grasp the experiment’s significance, he had a hunch that Lumian might be exploring a way to locate Father Montserrat.

Upon reaching the first-class suite, Lumian promptly instructed Lugano, “Go to the captain and ask him to gather all the Beyonders of the Earth pathway on the ship. Oh, and the Beyonders of the Apothecary pathway. I’ll be back after capturing Father Montserrat. It doesn’t matter if they don’t show up. They’ll bear the risk themselves.”

Unsure if Captain Pedro was aware of every unstable element on the ship and every Beyonder, Lumian planned to monitor the Pride Armor later to prevent it from targeting hidden wild Beyonders. Allowing Pedro to handle this process first would lighten his load.

As Lugano left the suite, Lumian turned to Ludwig, who had resumed his meal.

“Keep an eye out later and see if there’s any ‘food’ secretly lurking here.”

Ludwig, mouth full of cake, signaled his agreement.

Waiting for the captain’s arrival, Lumian patrolled the cabin’s top floor with the Pride Armor in his arms, but Father Montserrat remained elusive.

Before long, Pedro entered the suite with the suspected security supervisor and a passenger in a low hat.

Lumian didn’t delve into details and gestured toward the sofa.

“Wait for me here.”

Without waiting for a response, he pressed down on his golden straw hat and exited the room.

Upon reaching the staircase, Lumian “pulled” out his silver-white full-body armor. Gripping the Sealed Artifact’s armpits firmly with both hands, he methodically patrolled each level of the cabin.

Whenever he approached a distance less than 15 meters from his suite, Lumian exercised extra caution, yet the Pride Armor refrained from attacking anyone.

Could it be that, beyond five meters and with several layers of obstruction, the armor wouldn’t exhibit any additional reactions? Lumian speculated as he descended floor by floor.

After nearly half an hour, he descended to the cargo cabin at the bottom.

Before maneuvering past stacks of wooden crates, the Pride Armor in Lumian’s grasp suddenly quivered, breaking free from his control.

The silver-white full-body armor morphed a radiant broadsword. Advancing in two strides, it swung at a wooden box tucked in the corner.

With a resounding clang, the wooden box splintered, and a handful of steel ingots spilled out.

At the same moment, Montserrat’s clean, youthful visage emerged from the broken box, materializing his entire body.

Confronted by the gleaming broadsword of light once more, the priest’s initially sturdy frame bulked up, as if transforming into a formidable brown bear.

Bang! With a powerful palm strike, he sent the Sword of Dawn hurtling, landing atop a wooden crate of goods behind him.

This strength rivaled that of a true giant bear!

As Father Montserrat skillfully parried the Pride Armor’s onslaught, Lumian, donned in a linen shirt, black vest, and a golden straw hat, materialized swiftly beside a stack of wooden crates behind him.

“Hmph!”

Two beams of white light shot from Lumian’s nostrils, hitting Father Montserrat before he could even react.

Instantly, the priest’s gaze lost focus, and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

With this turn of events, vitality surged through his body like a steam engine operating at full throttle.

The robust vitality manifested as an incredibly potent self-

healing ability, swiftly restoring Father Montserrat’s spirit.

The Spell of Harrumph bore a resemblance to Psychic Piercing, both targeting the Spirit Body and proving challenging to defend against. However, while the latter induced uncontrollable pain, trapping the target, the former added a sleep-inducing or unconscious state to the Spirit Body—a different form of harm.

Since it was an injury, it could be healed.

Empowered by the vigorous vitality’s transformation, Father Montserrat’s closed eyelids twitched as his eyeballs moved beneath them.

He nearly woke up before hitting the ground!

Yet, for Lumian, a mere second of restraint from the Spell of Harrumph was sufficient.

Considering that Father Montserrat might also be a product of human refinement, some abilities might not be effective. Lumian lunged at him, extending his right hand.

In his open palm, crimson flames coiled and compressed, forming a solid-looking sphere.

Simultaneously, the Pride Armor raised the Sword of Dawn once more.

Just as Father Montserrat opened his eyes and instinctively regained balance, he caught sight of Louis Berry’s jade-green eyes, the dangerous crimson fireball almost white, and the broadsword of light slashing toward his head from the corner of his vision.

With only a moment to react, he twisted to the side to evade the Sword of Dawn, but Lumian pressed the crimson, nearly white fireball against him.

Boom!

In a resounding explosion, Father Montserrat was sent hurtling through the air.

Flesh and blood erupted from his right shoulder to his abdomen, bones fractured, and squirming internal organs were laid bare.

His right arm dangled, on the verge of detachment.

Yet, the robust vitality within Father Montserrat persisted. Flesh and blood wriggled within the gaping wound, miraculously healing.

Thud!

Father Montserrat crashed to the ground, accompanied by the heavy footsteps of the Pride Armor and the luminous slash of the broadsword.

Lifting his finger, the blood and flesh expelled from his body during the explosion swiftly coalesced, transforming into a blurry, thin blood-colored figure.

This figure lunged at the silver-white full-body armor, enveloping it and infiltrating its form.

Abruptly, the cargo hold was bathed in Sunrise Gleam. The blood-colored figure dissolved, gradually fading away.

The Sunrise Gleam was gentle, sparing Father Montserrat the instinctive need to shut his eyes. Consequently, his gaze reflected crimson, nearly white flaming ravens.

A dozen or so Fire Ravens circled Lumian, who casually kept one hand in his pocket. Their eyes fixed on Montserrat, tracing distinct trajectories as they soared.

Their aim was clear—to shred the target’s body and set each piece of flesh ablaze, preventing recovery even with his potent self-healing abilities.

When each fragment was spaced 20 to 30 centimeters apart, their self-healing powers struggled to reunite them!

This wasn’t flesh and blood magic!

Father Montserrat’s pupils dilated, and his mouth instinctively opened, emitting a sinister yet intimate voice.

With the accompanying voice, a dense darkness descended, and wheat-filled weeds sprouted, devouring the Sunrise Gleam that bathed the warehouse.

In the darkness, some of the crimson, nearly white Fire Ravens lost their way, unable to traverse the “distant” space. Gradually, they dissipated—only a fraction successfully reaching Father Montserrat.

Amidst thunderous explosions, Father Montserrat’s form turned translucent, giving rise to a colossal illusory oak tree in its place.

The oak tree stood unscathed amid the explosion and flames, and amidst the aftermath, the mangled form of Father Montserrat materialized on a branch adorned with mistletoe. He cradled his arms, as if holding an invisible infant.

Gazing at Lumian, he wore a genuine smile.

So you’re not a demigod…

“Waaa!”

For the first time, Lumian heard the ethereal, hollow cry of the baby.

“Wah wah wah!”

Amidst the relentless cries, Lumian felt his vitality draining away. Gradually weakening, even his consciousness began to waver.

The depleted vitality seemed to flow towards the invisible baby in Father Montserrat’s embrace, transforming into its nourishment.