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As Lumian’s body was ripped apart by the explosion, he drew upon an Ascetic’s tolerance for pain and a Pyromaniac’s resistance to burning, activating the black mark on his right shoulder once again.

Alongside Father Montserrat, whose neck had been pierced by the Symphony of Hatred, he vanished into the swirling flames, reappearing at the edge of the dark wilderness.

His linen shirt, black vest, and dark pants lay in tatters. The exposed parts were mangled and charred, revealing white bones in some places.

Father Montserrat, close to death, had the filthy, translucent white membrane on his body torn and burned away by the explosion. The mutated naked body with various organs below was dented and charred, with flesh and blood constantly peeling off.

Snap.

As the first piece of flesh landed on the edge of the weed-covered darkness, it suddenly seeped in, as if absorbed by the soil.

Witnessing this, Lumian’s heart stirred. He grabbed Father Montserrat’s body and activated teleportation once again.

They left the dark wilderness and materialized on the deck bathed in crimson moonlight.

Simultaneously, the illusory oak tree in the depths of the cargo hold shed its bark, revealing moist, slippery flesh.

The blood-filled flesh began to squirm, but only a palm-sized figure emerged.

The figure, nearly the same size as the blob of flesh that had dropped from Father Montserrat and been absorbed by the wilderness, had clear eyes and a youthful appearance, resembling Father Montserrat, who had shrunk countless times.

Father Montserrat’s eyes were glazed, and his expression was rigid, showing no signs of intelligence.

The silver-white Pride Armor rushed over and swung the re-condensed light hammer down, flattening the pixie-like Father Montserrat and turning him into a bloody pulp.

Dawn lit up, melting the meat paste quickly.

The illusory colossal oak tree instantly became more transparent, and the black wilderness with weeds rapidly disintegrated.

In the blink of an eye, the abnormal scene vanished. The cargo hold returned to its original state, but many wooden boxes had shattered, and the steel walls and floor bore obvious depressions and deep marks.

Elsewhere, Lumian drew the Symphony of Hatred’s black bone flute and observed as Father Montserrat’s blood dripped onto the steel deck without soaking in.

Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, he heard Father Montserrat, who had fallen to the ground and entered a dying state, weakly but persistently shout, “To banish the… Child of God… you must grasp… His true name!

“His true name is…”

Suddenly, Father Montserrat’s voice vanished, but his mouth continued opening and closing.

The illusory, hollow cry of a baby echoed in Lumian’s ears once more.

Unlike before, the cries were distant, as if in another world. Lumian’s body didn’t stiffen or turn cold, rendering him immobile.

Is the invisible Child of God still wary of the Blood Emperor’s aura? Is this instinctive fear? Lumian quickly surveyed the surroundings and realized that the crimson moonlight on the deck, or rather, around him, had vanished.

The area became abnormally dark, preventing even the sound of seawater splashing.

“Waa! Waa! Waa!”

The baby’s cries persisted, growing louder and clearer.

Lumian abruptly lowered his head, fixing his gaze on the breathless Father Montserrat and the stomach of the corpse before him.

At some indeterminate moment, the stomach bulged, as if something writhed within. Despite the already gaping wounds, a demonic blood-red glow emanated from the belly.

Lumian’s eyes narrowed slightly as he knelt on one knee. Extending his right hand, which grasped the Symphony of Hatred, towards Father Montserrat’s distended stomach.

Slash!

A gentle stroke of the black bone flute cleaved open the blood-red stomach, revealing blood-stained intestines and internal organs. There was no sign of the so-called Child of God or a moist, filthy baby.

Poof! A substantial amount of transparent, pale-yellow liquid spewed out from the ruptured blood-colored stomach, splattering the surrounding deck.

“Waa! Waa! Waa!”

The baby’s cries intensified, piercing and shrill, drawing closer to Lumian.

He seemed to be gradually overcoming His fear of the Blood Emperor’s aura out of anger and hatred.

I need to find a professional to banish this invisible Child of God… Lumian, whose current spirituality allowed him two uses of Spirit World Traversal, planned on seeking assistance.

Hunters weren’t experts in such matters!

Yet, after activating the black mark on his right shoulder, Lumian realized he couldn’t sense the spirit world or the coordinates he had once held.

The abnormal darkness induced by the Child of God’s cries appeared to seal off this area.

This was closer to Paramita!

I can’t find help, summon a messenger, or pray to high-level existences… Lumian’s eyes narrowed as his heart sank.

At that moment, the invisible Child of God’s cries drew nearer, causing Lumian’s body to stiffen and turn cold once again.

As panic surged, Lumian, a Conspirer, swiftly devised a new plan: Exorcism Spell!

One of the five ritualistic magics from Alms Monk, capable of dispelling wraiths and evil spirits.

The unborn Child of God, invisible in the real world, bore a resemblance to wraiths or evil spirits.

Lumian, untroubled by the need for a specific target in his Exorcism Spell, could firstly use his name. Secondly, he could pray to Mr. Fool. The proximity-based response of the seal on his chest, due to the severed connection with the outside world, would provide the necessary level and strength!

An Ascetic, Lumian could simplify parts of the Exorcism Spell for a quick completion.

The hitch was the requirement for the target’s real name and an item frequently carried. Lumian lacked both.

His gaze shifted to Father Montserrat’s open and deflated stomach, searching for something relevant.

If unsuccessful in a minute, he planned to unleash Blood Emperor Alista Tudor’s aura, attempting to scare away the invisible Child of God and break through the abnormal darkness for an indirect banishment.

After scanning the area a few times, Lumian’s gaze fixed on the chaotic, blood-stained intestines.

Amidst them lay a short, flesh-colored, bloodstained strip, clearly not fully developed.

Wh… An incomplete umbilical cord of the Child of God? If it’s truly an umbilical cord, it’s closely tied to the Child of God. Connected to His flesh and blood. I don’t even need to know His true name to succeed in the Exorcism Spell… Lumian retracted the Symphony of Hatred and tore off the suspected incomplete umbilical cord.

The illusory baby’s cries intensified.

Lumian shuddered and chuckled.

“Thank you for confirming it for me.”

He held the incomplete umbilical cord and danced a rhythmic, distorted, primitive dance.

As Lumian danced, he constantly bent down, using the umbilical cord to draw corresponding symbols on the deck with Father Montserrat’s blood.

He simplified the patterns he needed to complete, straightened his body, and pressed his left palm, creating a crimson, nearly white flame on the symbol.

Then, he placed the umbilical cord into the flames.

There was a strong symbolic meaning behind this, representing expulsion, incineration, and purification!

“Waaa!”

The baby’s cries heightened, sending a shiver down Lumian’s spine, causing his body to tremble slightly.

Swiftly, he positioned a lit candle atop the flame and umbilical cord. Stepping back, he recited in Hermes, “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…”

As the honorific name of Mr. Fool echoed, a wispy gray fog enveloped the surroundings. The unseen baby’s cries diminished, echoing in a haunting hollowness.

Feeling a burning sensation in his left chest, Lumian advanced two steps with a determined expression. He grasped the smoldering umbilical cord, flicked it thrice, and returned it to its place.

He continued, “I beseech your assistance. I implore you to banish the object connected to this umbilical cord…”

In an instant, the crimson, nearly white, flames tainted the gray fog, burning more intensely. The umbilical cord swiftly charred, revealing Father Montserrat’s transparent face marked by explosions and blood. The hollow baby’s cries faded into the distance.

Father Montserrat’s spirit involuntarily retreated, relief evident on his pained face.

He was also connected to the umbilical cord, and he was now a ghost!

With difficulty, Father Montserrat raised his hands and shouted, “Life’s precious embrace, the harvest’s grace!

“Praise the Earth, praise the Mother of All Things!”

His transparent Spirit Body rapidly dissipated into the darkness. The invisible Child of God emitted a shrill cry filled with hatred and curses.

The cry echoed in Lumian’s head, making him feel as if he had endured Psychic Piercings repeatedly. He became extremely weak, his thoughts consumed by the pain in his soul, losing perception of the outside world.

Upon recovery, the abnormal darkness on the deck had vanished, and the crimson moonlight returned.

The symbols on the ground and the gray fog-colored flames disappeared, leaving only the quietly burning candle and the charred umbilical cord.

After a brief pause, Lumian bent down to extinguish the candle flame. Pressing his hand to his chest, he whispered, “Thank you, Mr. Fool.”

After stowing away the remnants of the umbilical cord and the ritual candle, Lumian cast a glance at Father Montserrat’s still uncharacteristic corpse. He unleashed his Compression power.

His spirituality restored, weakness eased, Lumian finally felt confident enough to return to the cargo hold. Silently, he packed the Pride Armor into his Traveler’s Bag.

Completing this task, he changed into tattered clothes and tended to his exposed wounds briefly.

Enduring the pain, he returned to his suite as if nothing had occurred. Addressing the captain, Pedro, and the others, he declared, “The problem has been resolved. Father Montserrat’s corpse is on the deck. His belongings will be handed over to the Church of Earth Mother. Right, a Blessed.”

Lumian harbored no intention of claiming the Church of Earth Mother’s items.

Captain Pedro and the others departed in bewilderment to verify the deck situation. Lugano approached Lumian and whispered,

“Is Father Montserrat really dead?”

“You can take a look at his corpse,” Lumian replied with a “smile,” intending to instruct the servant to provide treatment.

Lugano frowned and said, “But I vaguely heard his voice earlier. He seemed to be shouting the name of the so-called Child of God.”

Shouting the so-called Child of God’s name? Back then, Father Montserrat had indeed shouted the Child of God’s true name, but due to special reasons, it hadn’t reached the real world. Only Beyonders nearby corrupted by the Child of God could hear it? Lumian pondered and said to Lugano, “That was before Father Montserrat’s death. What name did he call out?”

Lugano heaved a sigh of relief and recalled, “I think it was… I think it was…”

Finally, he remembered and recited the pronunciation.

“Yes, Omebella.”